From a Different Point of View
by Arjen
Summary: Part 6 of Black Sunrise. Just a not quite ordinary weekend for our favorite assassin possessed Dawn as seen by the people around her. Crossover with Noir.
1. The Slayer

**Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Noir**

**Chronology:**

**Black Sunrise**

**Dark, Darker, ...**

**Unforeseen Consequences: Heart of Darkness**

**Christmas Shopping**

**Unforeseen Consequences: Revelations**

**From a Different Point of View**

**Disclaimer: All characters and other recognizable things are property of Mutant Enemy, ADV films, and whoever else wants to lay claim to them. Everything that I thought up is made using their property so I won't claim that either.**

**Feedback: Be critical, and my writing improves. Praise me, and I will feel good. A combination of these is my favorite.**

**My thanks go to Era and The Unicorn, for their help in ensuring that this story makes sense and is readable.**

**Background: ****During Halloween Dawn was possessed by the assassin Kirika from the anime series Noir. Afterwards she kept the memories, and personalities from Kirika. For more details it's best to read the other stories.**

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**The Slayer**

Spitting out the coppery-tasting blood, Buffy had only one thought in her head: life sucked. There was no other way she could describe her feelings. Not even staking what remained of the vampire before her helped to improve her mood. The vampire had been good, having been some kind of martial arts type of person before he had encountered the vampire he couldn't beat, but the main reason he'd survived for several minutes against her was because she'd allowed it.

Why did it have to happen? Why did her whole world need to be turned upside down? She only just turned 17! It wasn't fair! It was thoughts like these that had distracted her during the fight; thereby allowing the vampire to get in several good shots, and stopping her from being able to finish the fight quickly.

She only just turned 17! Closing her eyes in despair at the recurring thought, Buffy rested her back against the cold wall of the tomb she just passed. Cold. Just like he had been. But not hot, like he had become during what at first had appeared to be the best night of her life.

Maybe if she hadn't pushed him into it... no, it had been mutual. There was no reason to put the blame on herself. At least not concerning this. There were enough other things she could blame herself for. Stifling a sob, Buffy opened her eyes again. She hadn't sensed anything, but a cemetery wasn't the place to feel sorry for herself. Especially not a cemetery where she'd already encountered one vampire.

He might be near.

She hoped he wasn't - although at the same time she did. Seeing his handsome face was something she longed for, but how the man she loved was no longer inhabiting his own body was not something she wished to be reminded of.

Kill him: that's what she needed to do. Intellectually she knew that was the mission she should set herself, but knowing something and actually being able to do it were two completely different matters. She loved him: how could she stake him?

No! He was no longer the man she loved. The creature now wearing his face was pure evil: one of the worst vampires to have emerged in the last couple of centuries. He was hundreds of years old! And - even worse - he knew how she thought, how she fought, and how she worked.

Even if she could bring herself to kill him, how could she overcome those problems? Destroy the man bearing the face of the love of her life.

She was supposed to save the people she cared about, not to destroy them!

Would he go after her friends? So far he'd left them alone, but how long would that last? Could she count on it that she'd be able to prevent him from going after her friends forever? Was she willing to risk the lives of her friends in that way?

No.

No, she wasn't willing to risk her friends. Not even for the man she loved. Especially when that man was dead. Willow, Xander, even Cordelia, were all at risk. There was something worse though: the risk to her friends was nothing compared to her greatest vulnerability.

Dawn. Her little sister knew about the existence of vampires, but she knew only a few tiny details. She had the kind of knowledge that could get her killed even without Ang- Even without him running around.

Gods, how bad was it that she couldn't even think his name?

Taking a deep calming breath, she continued her patrol through the cemetery. Most likely the vampire had been alone, so with a bit of luck she wouldn't encounter him here, but that didn't mean she shouldn't pay at least some attention to her surroundings. Walking through the cemetery, with her eyes jumping from suspicious shadow to suspicious shadow, Buffy couldn't resist imagining each and every worst-case scenario.

Would he have told all the other vampires about how she fought? How she would react to a certain move? She knew how her love had fought, but the demon would undoubtedly be different. Which meant another advantage to him.

She shook her head at those negative thoughts. No, she couldn't give up like this. Not before she had even tried to stake him. Tried to release his body from the hold of the demon. Dawn and her mother were both at risk from the vampire. She couldn't just give up!

Gritting her teeth in an attempt to make herself feel angry Buffy tried to muster her courage for the fight that was sure to come. A fight that could only end one way. If she lost, he would kill her family: her mother and her little brat of a sister. Her friends would be killed as well, but they at least understood the danger they would face. Not that that was necessarily a good thing.

Protecting her mother and sister had to come first though. The first step was easy: when Dawn got back from her stay with their father Buffy would just order her to stay inside while it was dark outside. Dawn knew enough about what had happened to understand he was now dangerous, and maybe the brat would even listen to her.

At least that was something good that had come out of the whole thing with Xander and Jane. Apart from Xander saving somebody's life of course, because people being saved was always very much of the good.

What she was really happy about though was how the event had influenced both Dawn's idea of what vampires and demons actually meant, and - more importantly - how her mom and the parents of Dawn's friends friends had reacted. The three of them were no longer allowed to go out alone during the night; at least not until those 'muggers' were caught. Which would never happen of course as they were already piles of dust.

Of course, that meant that when Dawn left after dinner to visit their father it had been Buffy who had to escort her to the bus. That was the downside of the thing, but also showed that with a bit of luck Dawn wouldn't be allowed to go out again until she was thirty-five or so. Still, during the walk to the bus station Buffy had almost been scared of an attack. It hadn't come this time, but who knew what might happen in the future?

He was smart and, even in the unlikely case Dawn would do as she was told, would probably find a way around that. For all Buffy knew he could just decide to take Drusilla, and Spike - if that bastard was able to walk again - and attack Dawn and whoever was with her at the time. Even she might not be able to protect her sister from an attack like that. So, she couldn't let that happen.

But why couldn't Buffy feel the anger she needed to kill him?

A cramp in her jaw told Buffy she should stop trying to punish her teeth for her own mistakes. It wasn't as if the grinding was doing her any good anyway: she still felt numb. Numb to such an extent that she doubted she'd ever feel anything again. A distraction was needed, but this cemetery was dead. Literally dead.

She needed to go somewhere else, but first... something different. She had recieved several hits during the fight, but as usual she hadn't really noticed it. Adrenaline: that's what she knew the reason was. The question she now asked herself was something else though: without adrenaline coursing through her body, would the pain of a wound be able to mute the pain of her heart? She decided to see if physical pain would be more powerful than the one in her heart when she wasn't focused - yeah right - on fighting for her life.

Her walk had returned her to the tomb that had reminded her of his cool body, and this she felt would be a suitable place to carry out her experiment. With all the strength in her body, Buffy punched the solid wall. It hurt; it hurt so bad that for a moment she feared she might have broken something, but it also hurt for only a short time as the pain quickly faded away.

For a while she simply stared at the traitorous hand that showed so clearly how much better than her soul her body was at handling pain. In a way she felt like she'd been betrayed, no matter how twisted that sounded. The moment her hand crashed into the wall it had hurt so bad Buffy thought it might have crippled her, but it was only a matter moments before the pain had faded to a dull ache, and after not much longer even that had disappeared.

The durability of a Slayer. Wasn't it wonderful?

Why was this only for the physical stuff? Couldn't the same be done for the pain in her heart?

Not that that made any sense, after all she had been hurt in a fight often enough to know that as the Slayer she could ignore pain with the best of them, but even so... She wasn't ignoring the pain right now: apart from the brief flare of pain as her hand crashed into the rough stone, she simply didn't notice she was hurt.

This wasn't a good thing, and she really hoped it would be gone soon enough. She couldn't deal with this! Hadn't she proved that already? She might have destroyed the Judge with the rocket launcher, but she still hadn't been able to kill him.

Suddenly noticing that the blood on her hands had dried up while she was musing to herself, she once again turned around and walked out of the cemetery. This was her world: she was the ultimate creature of the night, and nobody should be able to take that away from her.

Deciding a shortcut through the park was in order, something she'd started to do more often since she'd found out about Xander's rescue of Dawn's friend, she turned left as she slipped out of the gate. Maybe something would show up there. All she wanted right now was to pummel something and then go home to cry herself to sleep.

No! Not cry! She was strong and could handle this. She was the Slayer, and the Slayer was a super-human being. Like in the cartoons and stuff. Of course, how often were the heroes in those cartoons forced to kill the one they loved?

Not again! If Buffy had been able to feel the emotion she was sure she'd be exasperated by herself. Everything seemed to be coming back to him, whereas he was only one of the many possible causes for a quick death in Sunnydale. Okay, that sounded far too morbid even when considering how she felt at the moment.

Still, it held a kernel of truth. From the average vampire that might take advantage of her situation, to the next big demon to come along, all the way up to that big mystery none of them had any clue about. The big scary green lady. The one Xander had heard those vampires talk about. The vampires he killed in this very park to save someone he didn't even know.

Once again the tiniest bit of emotion rushed through her body: a strange mixture of love, pride, fear, and even anger. Love because he was one of her best friends, and she loved all her friends; pride because he had been able to save someone all on his own; fear because he might try again and not succeed; and anger at the world that made it necessary for her friends to put themselves in danger.

This fleeting mixture of emotions was gone almost as soon as she noticed it, but at least it served to tell Buffy she wasn't totally gone yet. There was still hope for her.

Back to the green one though. She had interrogated a couple of vampires, demons, and even once visited Willy's to see if he knew anything about this green lady. Or was it Green Lady, with capitals? That was the way Xander said the vamps had spoken about her.

Oh, who cares?

With or without capitals, the green lady was a danger. And what was with the name anyway? Why lady, and not woman, girl, or even chick? Had the green lady decided on the name because of how it sounded? All classy and powerful?

Well, she couldn't be all classy because, if what they suspected was right, she had been pretty messy when it came to killing Ethan Rayne. And probably that vampire during Halloween too. If she hadn't been so numb, remembering how those two victims of this lady had looked would have made her react. She wouldn't have thrown up, she hadn't done that at the time either, but she would have felt something.

How could any sane person torture someone to death? That just wasn't done.

On the other hand, the lady's victims had all been bad guys. Even if one of them had been human and therefore shouldn't be killed unless it was as a last resort. Which definitely hadn't been the case with Ethan.

Of course, ever since hearing about the lady Buffy had been anxious to find her because of the one crime she'd dreamed about. A dream that had put the lady at the top of Buffy's list of evil people.

A crime that in the end hadn't been committed by the lady, but instead by Buffy herself. All the dreams she'd had warning her about what was going to happen, how the green light would take her love away from her, and how she would just stand there to watch it happen. She'd fought hard to prevent it from happening, but in the end all her fighting hadn't mattered: she'd still gone into it with both her eyes, and legs, wide open.

Yes, there was only one person responsible for the death of her love: Buffy Anne Summers, the failed Slayer.

Failed Slayer perhaps, but Slayer nonetheless, Buffy mentally berated herself.

Which meant she really ought to clean up her own mess sooner or later. Yes, she had killed the one she loved, and when she'd done that a monster came back to torture her for that awful deed. Yes, that's it. That was how she should think about it. The one walking around now was a monster who had come to punish her for her crimes. A monster like that wasn't out of the ordinary and she could easily take care of it.

Yes! Nodding her head in elation she was almost happy she'd managed to convince herself of a way to kill hi-, the monster who had come to avenge him. Alright, she was willing to admit the monster might have something of a right to hurt her, but it was going too far. Innocents in this matter were off limits, and that was exactly who the monster was going after.

She was the Slayer, wasn't that exactly what she'd been telling herself? And the Slayer was the queen of the night.

Wow, melodramatic much? For a moment she stopped and blinked; when did she start channeling Cordelia? No matter, Buffy quickly focused back on her thoughts. What was important was that she could deal with this. It might not be easy, and she would probably feel miserable for a long time, but she could deal with it.

Something was off.

Halting in her tracks, Buffy let out all her senses in an attempt to find out what was wrong. The fresh smell of the trees caused by the rain earlier in the evening assaulted her sense of smell, as did some of the less pleasant things. There was a reason she disliked using her nose to its fullest extent in the park, and it wasn't just because people walked their dogs here.

Her nose didn't tell her much, but that didn't matter as it was only a part of her arsenal. She was the Slayer - why did she have to keep reminding herself of that? - and she could use even the air flowing over her bare skin to determine whether or not something was around. Nothing from that either though, nor did she hear anything.

She couldn't see it because she was facing away from the danger, something she was informed of by her spider-sense. Something was watching her, trusting in the environment to mask its tracks. Her heart sped up: she knew exactly who was watching her. Maybe going through the park hadn't been such a good idea after all.

As her mouth dried up, Buffy tightened the grip on her stake and prepared to fight the battle of her life. This was what she'd convinced herself she could do, and she still held the advantage: he didn't know she knew where he was. The feeling of vampire was approaching her, and she let out a deep breath while still keeping her back to him. Thirty feet, twenty-five, twenty, and suddenly he was rushing her.

Twirling around so fast any ordinary human would have fallen to the ground from the sudden disorientation, Buffy shoved the stake right where she knew his heart to be. Only then, as the vampire's expression turned to surprise did she notice it wasn't him after all. It wasn't anyone she recognized, although it was obvious this vampire had barely crawled out of its grave.

The vampire exploded into dust just as it was supposed to, and for a moment Buffy wondered how she could possibly have mistaken this weakling for him. Why had her senses told her she was in real danger from a vampire she defeated in a split second?

Not that it really mattered, as it had been a useful fight. It had shown she was willing to do what needed to be done where it concerned him.

Yes! Once again a short burst of mixed feelings burst through the numbness enveloping her mind. She could do it! Even if it hadn't actually been him, she hadn't hesitated when she thought it was.

No. Wait. There was still something wrong.

He was here, she was sure of it. Undoubtedly he'd only sent this one to see how she'd react, and with that realization Buffy knew she'd never been in any danger. No, that wasn't entirely true either. The vampire could have killed her, but the chances of that happening had been very slim. He wanted to play with her after all.

Peering into the darkness she tried to find where he was hiding. He was here. So she would find him, and then she'd kill him. For real this time. She wouldn't let him get away again.

There! She found the spot where the shadows seemed just a bit darker than the surrounding ones. As soon as Buffy was focused on that area she could hear clapping coming from it.

"Well, well, lover. I'm impressed: you didn't hesitate at all. Did you think it was me? Did you truly believe I would be so stupid to approach you in such a clumsy way? I had hoped you wouldn't think so lightly of me." He stepped out of the shadows, and once again she was faced with the handsome face she saw in each of her dreams and nightmares.

"Yes well, maybe if you'd shown different I wouldn't have believed that," Buffy answered lamely. Okay, her puns weren't working very well right now. Never a good sign. No! Stay focused, he's dangerous.

"Ouch," he smiled, "you wound me deeply. How could you say something like that to me? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Shut up! You're not him. I will kill you."

"You look a bit angry lover. Maybe you need to get laid? That sort of thing does wonders for you. It can be a truly liberating experience. Trust me, I speak from experience."

He kept pushing her buttons, didn't he? Well she'd show him she was capable of doing what needed to be done. "Maybe you should start praying, oh wait. You don't want to go to heaven after I stake you, do you?"

"Lover, lover, lover," he said while shaking his head in a condescending manner. "You still don't get it, do you? You're not good enough to stake me. You're only a second rate Slayer who likes to sleep with the enemy."

"I didn't sleep with the enemy, but with the man I love."

That annoying smug look appeared on his face again as he spread his arms wide. "And look what you did to him! You set him free to enjoy the world. Have I thanked you for that yet? No? Oh well, let me think of a good way to do that then."

"You won't have a chance to thank me, because in a couple of minutes you'll be nothing but dust in the wind."

"Dust in the wind, how quaint. Did you come up with that yourself or did you take it from some second-rate movie?" Once again he smiled that mocking smile of his. Damn him! Damn him to hell! "Ah! I've figured out a way to thank you. I should liberate your family like you liberated me. Your sister is still a bit young for my tastes, although Dru likes them that way, but your mother should be excellent. Ah, I can already hear how they'll scream in pleasure. Or is it pain?"

As her vision turned red, Buffy could only see the creature before her. The one who was laughing about hurting her mother and little sister. Doing things to them no sane person would be capable of doing.

She moved. Not bothering to hide her intention she ran at him and as soon as she was within reach she swung her arm in a move that would have almost taken his head off if it had connected.

It didn't.

"Gets them every time," she could hear him brag from where she was lying on the grass. She could feel the texture of it on her hands, but wasn't at first sure how she'd gotten there. He'd known what she'd been about to do. Well, she'd teach him about predicting her moves. "Don't you get it yet Slayer? I'm better than you, and if you're angry it only makes it easier for me."

'Keep bragging,' Buffy furiously thought, 'keep bragging and I'll show your ashes what your mistake was.' Lying still she waited until he dropped his guard a little more and took that last step towards her she needed him to take.

As soon as she could feel he was within range, her right foot shot out and hit him in the shin. It wasn't the knee as she'd hoped to hit, but it was good enough. Immediately following through on the move she jumped to her feet in order to continue the fight. But seeing him bent over to hold his sore leg, Buffy couldn't resist her own smug smile. "Now who's stupid?" Not waiting for a reply she kicked him in the head. Or at least, she would have if he hadn't been able to bring up an arm to ward off the blow.

"It won't be that easy lover."

"Don't. Call. Me. That," Buffy punctuated her words while launching another kick, and another, and another, and another, until he was backed against a tree.

"You're too easy lover, I wonder if your sister will be the same," he still dared to smile. Calm be damned! She didn't need to be calm to shut him up forever. There was no way she'd let him do anything to Dawn. Nor to her mother or friends.

She tried to punch him in the face, but as he ducked just in time she hit the tree instead. The tree splintered where she hit it, but she didn't get of lightly herself either: her hand hurt. It hurt pretty bad actually. Why did it have to do so now, when it didn't earlier? She didn't have time to think about pain though as the monster made his first true offensive move at the same moment.

Air exploded from her mouth as his knee hit her stomach, and she stumbled back from him. No! This opponent was too dangerous to allow herself time to heal. Suppressing the pain, Buffy stood straight again and kicked at his torso. Once again his arm was there barely in time, and he turned his block into a straight punch.

This time Buffy was ready, and harmlessly deflected his attack to the side. That opened up an opportunity for her and, although she'd berated Cordelia for doing the same to Xander during Halloween, she had no intention of passing up on it. Her foot shot out and hit the monster where it hurt the most.

Of course, she told herself as she watched him go cross-eyed and drop keening to his knees, it also ensured he wouldn't try to rape her sister or mother. "Gets them every time," she panted.

Raising his head, he glared at how she threw his own words back in his face. "Bitch."

"What? You're not calling me lover anymore?" Buffy mocked while taking hold of Mr. Pointy and preparing herself to do what needed to be done. Despite her words, her heart was racing and she was aware he knew that. But how couldn't she be nervous about this? He was her soul-mate. The love of her life. The first man she'd made love to. Earlier it had been self-defense, but killing him while he was sitting so vulnerable in front of her?

Blinking away the tears, Buffy wondered when she'd started crying. No matter. She could do this. She was strong enough to stake the monster before her. He might look like the man she loved, but he wasn't. Taking a deep, calming, breath to slow her thundering heart she looked at him again. He looked so much like the one she loved, but he wasn't.

If she allowed him to live, this monster would kill dozens, if not hundreds, of people before she'd have another shot at him. Willow. Xander. Giles. Dawn. Her mother. She saw their faces in her mind, first how they looked now, and then how they would look once he was done with them. Yes, she had to do it now. After all, nobody had ever said saving the world wouldn't come with a price.

The internal debate had lasted only seconds, which meant he was still kneeling on the ground although he was now looking at the ground instead of her. Good, that would only make it easier.

Not taking any chances she kicked him full in the face, making him topple over, and continuing her move she drove Mr. Pointy at his heart.

"Buffy?" she suddenly heard him whisper in a tone that made her hand freeze.

That voice, the way he said her name. It seemed as if her heart could burst from happiness, and she halted her hand moments before the stake would have pierced his heart. Hoping beyond hope, Buffy raised her eyes to his face in an attempt to discover if he was once more the one she loved. "Angel?"

"What's going on?"

He looked so confused it made her cry. Had her wildest hope come true? The confusion in his eyes helped a lot in convincing her it was indeed her love. "Oh, Angel. I've missed you so much."

Using both hands to wipe the tears of happiness away, she wanted to say more when her legs were suddenly kicked away from under her. "I've missed you too lover, but I really have to go now."

NO! He'd fooled her. From where she was lying on the ground, Buffy watched the monster hobble away. It hadn't been him after all. Angel's soul hadn't magically reappeared, and now she had allowed the demon who'd taken over his body to get away.

Buffy knew she should go after him, but she simply didn't have the strength. The emotional roller-coaster she'd gone through tonight had worn her out. Next time though she would kill him. Next time she wouldn't hesitate. Next time she wouldn't fail her duty.

Of course, she'd told herself that very same thing every night during the past week.


	2. The Detective

**The Detective**

"All right, once again from the start," detective Jake Paulson told his partner. "What do we know?"

He could hear Karim sigh at this, but the man started anyway. "On the twenty-first of December a gang known as the Gilded Rings kidnapped fourteen-year old David Boyd, apparently better known to about half the underworld as Dave. From what we've found out he's a small-time pickpocket who's never actually been busted."

"But plans on doing bigger things," Jake pointed out.

"Yes, a boy with a lot of plans. Although from what I've heard he doesn't seem like the type to get mixed up in anything that would do more than material harm."

"Agreed. Except of course, for the whole reason we're sitting here."

"Right. Now, what we assume-"

Jake cut his partner of again "No, only the facts this time." With those words he started pacing the small office.

"It's your investigation," Karim shrugged. "The boy was apparently kept in the headquarters of the Gilded Rings. He didn't stay there long however as someone had tracked down the Gilded Rings and took them out Punisher style."

"Skip the comic references. Although I still wish we knew at least how many invaders there were, and how big a portion of the dead they make up."

"You're not the only one," Karim sighed. "Anyway, after the killing the invaders left, presumably taking Boyd with them, and burned up the entire building so we wouldn't have anything to work with."

"Again with the presumably," Jake muttered, more to himself this time than his partner. He hated how little they knew about this case: not only did they have no a clue about the reason for the kidnapping, they had no idea who had killed the gang members, and they didn't even know where to find someone who, according to all his sources, was usually easier to find than the president.

"Yeah," Karim agreed. "I almost wish we could just write it off as a gang-war and be done with it."

"Almost, but not quite. Right?"

"You know me better than that Jake," his partner smiled. "Now, you know what I believe to be behind this."

"Still haven't given up on that conspiracy theory?" Jake asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's not a conspiracy theory. They really exist."

"A group of highly trained assassins? That kind of thing doesn't exactly make a lot of sense you know. I agree that whoever did this was good, but a group like what you describe couldn't possibly stay under the radar. There are many reasons why it isn't likely, but I'll only give you one: to survive they'd have to do a large number of hits a week. So many unexplained deaths couldn't possibly go unnoticed."

"Unless they didn't go for the humans," Karim seemed to murmur. Of course, he couldn't have possibly heard that right because what else was there for an assassin to hunt? Deer?

"What?"

"Never mind. I still think it explains a lot though, especially her."

Ah yes. The greatest mystery of them all: a little girl. There weren't many cases where the evidence seemed to point in the direction of a young girl nobody knew, and even after what he'd heard about her, Jake couldn't believe any little girl could do something like this. It just didn't make any sense. "Do you think she could have done that?"

There was no need to explain what he meant as Karim knew what he was talking about. "I don't know. With a lot of training it should be possible, but I don't..."

"You don't think even your theoretical assassins would train anyone that young," Jake finished for him.

"Exactly. How old did they say she was? Somewhere between ten and thirteen years old? Anybody willing to train somebody that young is just plain crazy."

"On the other hand, if you've been trained since birth you will be extremely good once you're old enough to actually go on a mission."

"Sure, but the chances you'd create someone who'd betray you are pretty good as well."

Jake didn't quite follow that logic. "Betray?"

"Nobody would come out of that training completely sane. They would have a total disregard for any life but their own, and if they believed you were a danger there is no way they'd let you live. Whether you trained them or not."

Letting out a deep sigh of frustration, Jake let himself fall in his chair. "All right, and you don't think your group of assassins is that stupid?"

"I've never heard of them employing children in the field. I don't doubt they train them at least somewhat, but not to the level displayed by the girl. And I'm not so much talking about the throw itself, but more about the total lack of emotion she showed."

True, there was something incredibly scary about the idea that a little girl could throw a knife in such a way it would prevent someone from firing a gun at her. But that she didn't even have the decency to look scared she might fail, or sorry she had to do it, was far worse. Karim was right about that at least: it simply wasn't natural.

Looking at the description he'd written down, Jake tried once again to figure out how exactly this young, between ten and thirteen years old; brunette, long hair; athletic looking girl fit into the picture. Only one person had been willing to talk about her: a friend of the man who got hit by the knife. Everybody else was silent, but that was something he'd gotten used to over the years.

"She works for somebody and was supposed to meet Boyd about a job of some kind," he said before looking at Karim again. Despite his silent hopes though, his partner didn't seem to have come up with a new theory.

"Most likely, and whoever she worked for got angry enough about Boyd's kidnapping that they went to the Gilded Rings and killed them all."

"But we still don't have a clue about who she works for, what the job was, or why they approached Boyd for it. He might know a lot of the right people, but he doesn't have the cloud needed to arrange a job of any kind."

"Which brings us back to the whole middle-man thing," Karim sighed as they once again got back to where they'd ended up every time for the past two weeks. "I hate it when people use children like that."

"You and me both buddy, you and me both."

They remained silent for several minutes, a time Jake spent thinking what he'd do if he ever found anyone who was willing to use children in order to achieve his own selfish goals. He knew that if he acted on pure instinct he'd draw his gun and shoot the bastard, but that wasn't his job. He had sworn to protect people, and he was supposed to do so by following the law.

Of course, Jake also realized that if one of the children used was Angela he wouldn't hesitate for even a moment in firing his gun. The price he'd pay for an doing that was worth it if it helped his own daughter.

"We need to find at least one of these kids and ask them who they work for," Karim said in a frustrated tone.

"Yes, we do. So, I guess it's time for us to head out again," Jake glumly said, "let's hope we've got more luck this time. There has to be someone who knows where they disappeared to."

Putting on their coats, the two of them first walked over to the front-desk: just in case something had turned up. Taking a sip of the bitter coffee he'd collected on his way there, Jake listened to Benning's answer.

"Sorry guys, no calls from hospitals, morgues, or other districts concerning your kids. Blake brought in a boy about an hour ago who looked like he might be yours-"

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Karim interrupted.

"But it didn't pan out," Benning continued without even allowing the question to interrupt his report.

Damn, Jake mentally swore. Not that he'd expected anything more today than yesterday, but there was always the hope. Well, except for the morgue part. If the kids were found there it would put the investigation on a dead track, and he would never get to punish the bastards who'd used them. Oh well, back to doing some old-fashioned legwork then.

"Thanks," he therefore told the sergeant before starting out, Karim quickly catching up.

As they walked on the parking place, his partner wanted to learn Jake's plans. "What's it gonna be today? The bar, the burned headquarter, or walking the streets and asking annoying questions?"

"I don't think we'll find anything else at the site, and the bar hasn't been very useful either. Let's just bask in the warm welcome we receive in that neighborhood."

"Ah, you always say the nicest things," Karim said with a smile as he opened his door and got in the car.

"Let's hope the natives agree with you this time. By the way, how is the wife doing? Is her morning-sickness starting to ease up?"

Seeing the dreamy smile on his partner's face, Jake focused his attention on starting the car. It wouldn't do for Karim to see him grin at the younger man's expression. After all, he'd worn the same expression himself only seven years ago. And the answer he received to his question was one that reminded him even more of those days: "Why do you think I got here this early?"

This time he couldn't help but let out a short burst of laughter. "Sorry to hear that man."

"Yeah, you really sound like it," Karim said, although his expression belied the grim tone of his voice.

"Cheer up, once the kid's born you'll wish for the times you were only bothered in the morning."

"What's this? Tell-Karim-all-the-bad-parts-of-fatherhood-day? You know you love playing daddy to your little girl."

"Oh yes I do. Hey, have I told you yet how she got detention in school last week?"

"Detention? What did she do?"

"She pulled a joke on the teacher, who for some reason didn't appreciate it."

"Ah, and you had to tell her how it wasn't a good thing all the while you were trying to hold in your laughter?"

Nodding, Jake told the story of how his daughter had switched the crayon the teacher used on the blackboard for the candy type. He was so engrossed in the story of Angela's exploits he barely noticed when they reached their destination and he had to cut the story he was telling short. "...and then she- Oh well, I guess it's time to get back to work."

Walking the streets and asking questions from random people wasn't the fastest way to get useful answers, something they were both aware of, but unfortunately they had exhausted all the other sources earlier in the investigation. Admittedly, they'd done this before as well, but Jake still held the hope that maybe they would be lucky today.

He really wanted to nail the bastards who used kids as their messengers, and trained at least one of them in a way that was far from healthy, before he was pulled off the case. Something that was becoming more and more likely with each fruitless day. Fortunately, after less than half an hour walking around the neighborhood they struck gold.

"Geez Dave, where've you been," he suddenly heard a young voice pipe up from around the corner they had just reached. Could it be they actually were going to be lucky? After all those useless days wasted here in these streets?

Looking at Karim he could see from his partner's expression he held the same hope. Still, they weren't going to move until they knew for sure. The voice was coming in their direction, so within a couple of seconds they'd find out.

"I had to get away for a while."

"Dude, the cops are looking for you..." the first voice tapered off as they rounded the corner and almost walked right into Jake. A first voice he now recognized as belonging to one of the kids he'd asked about Dave. Kyle, if he wasn't mistaken. "Oh fuck."

"Hello Kyle," Karim greeted the boys, confirming Dave's suspicions about the boy's name, "your friend here wouldn't happen to be David Boyd, would he?"

"What's it to you?" David demanded.

"I'm detective Musharraf, and this is my partner detective Paulson. We have some questions for you."

"What about?" the boy now wanted to know. Jake was impressed with David's self-control as the boy barely flinched at Karim's words. The only reason he actually saw it was because he'd been looking for it. This boy was obviously good at keeping secrets, which was probably why he'd been chosen by his bosses as a messenger.

"The murder and subsequent burning of all members of the Gilded Rings."

"The Rings are dead? Damn, that's pretty intense. When did that happen?"

A bit of a quaver in his voice was all the proof Jake needed to be certain the boy was lying through his teeth, and he decided to point that out. "When you were their guest, or have you forgotten about that too?"

"Ah, so you're the bad cop?"

Great, well he'd put himself in this position which meant he couldn't blame anyone else for it. Man, did he hate playing the bad cop in front of children. "It looks like it, doesn't it?"

"I guess we'll be going to your station now then?" the boy said calmly, although Jake could almost see the cracks forming. Yes, the boy knew how to keep a secret, but could he stand up against a real interrogation? He didn't look like he was strong enough yet to keep that up. If this had happened two years from now, Jake had no doubts the boy before him would have been completely different. Far more certain of himself, and with two additional years of training in resisting interrogation. His bosses had obviously overplayed their hand by allowing him back on the streets this soon.

"Yes we will, and when we're there you'll do us the favor of answering some questions, won't you?"

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet, but if that's how you want to play it we can do that."

"Nah, bracelets aren't my style. I think I'll just come along peacefully. Hey Kyle,"

"Yeah Dave?" the other kid, who did seem nervous, asked.

"Could you perhaps keep this quiet? I really don't want everyone to know I willingly left with a couple of cops."

Kyle shrugged before giving his consent and walking away quickly. No doubt the boy had a guilty conscience about something. Karim didn't pay attention to that, instead opting to keep his eyes on David. "Ready now?"

"Sure."

"Just curious by the way, but do you really believe your friend will keep quiet?"

"Kyle? Are you kidding me? Within fifteen minutes the whole area will know I've been arrested."

"You haven't been arrested, remember?" Jake pointed out.

A snort was his only answer to that. "Like anyone would believe that. Hell, I'm standing here and don't believe it for a second. Although I do wonder what you're after."

"Let's get back to the station and we'll tell you what we're after."

"Sure man, lead the way."

The ride over to the station was pretty uneventful, with some light probing from Karim the boy managed to deflect easily. Although the way he did made Jake doubt his earlier assessment a bit. Maybe the boy wasn't actually trained to resist an interrogation after all: the answers he provided were more like the ones he'd expect from any kid who'd spent the past couple of years on the streets.

Damn, this kid really was young. It was moments like this that Jake was actually glad he wasn't allowed to interrogate a minor without a legal representative present. While it didn't help much with regards to the investigation it did ensure he wouldn't break a child by pushing too hard. That reminded him, there was another question he had. "Where are your parents? We couldn't find them when we were looking for you."

"They're not around right now," David answered quickly. Too quickly. "They went on a trip out of the city."

Shit. He'd more or less known the kid was no longer living with his parents, but to actually hear his suspicions confirmed made him once again curse the cruel world that would leave children to fend for themselves. Entering the station, Karim took the boy to their office while Jake was going to report to the captain.

Knocking on the door he waited for the expected "Enter" and explained the situation to the captain, who was more than happy to hear about the progress.

"You've finally found the boy?"

"From what we gathered he was out of town, but too much is at stake here not to play it by the book."

"I hadn't expected anything else from you," captain O'Reilly said with a smile. "You said you couldn't find the boy's parents, right?"

"Right, and when I asked him about them he dodged the question."

"Runaway?"

"Probably, or his parents might have died and nobody ever found out about him."

The captain sighed at that, but nodded in acceptance. "Another one who slipped through the cracks. You go back to the kid, I'll make sure someone will be there to represent him within the hour."

"Thanks," Jake said before walking back to where he knew Karim and the boy to be. He had a good feeling about today: they were going to crack this case.

Hours later that good feeling had been replaced with weary resignation. Retracting the keys from his front door lock, Jake considered what had happened during the interrogation. Not that there was much to think about as the boy hadn't said anything. Even his lawyer had urged David to say who he worked for. Not that the lawyer had done so in their presence, he was a professional after all, but it was obvious after one of the breaks there was tension between the boy and the lawyer that could only be caused by something like that.

In the end the only thing they could do was to keep the boy at the station for the night. Maybe after a night there he would be more willing to talk. God, he really, really, hated taking freedom away from a child, especially one who had been used like David. Anyway, time to become the happy father that his daughter would recognize.

Stepping inside he was met by a shouting whirlwind that sometimes went by the name of Angela. "Daddy!"

"Hello beautiful," Jake returned the greeting while catching her as she ran at him and swung her around. "How was your day?"

"It was great! There were some scary boys, but Chloe told them to go away, and-"

Scary boys? That wasn't the kind of thing he liked to hear from his daughter, but knowing from experience he wouldn't get a useful answer he focused on the other part. "Who is Chloe?"

"My new friend, she's talking to mommy now. Come on, you've got to meet her." Curious about this new friend, and, more importantly, wanting an explanation of what had happened to Angela he allowed her to pull him along.

In the living room he was faced with not only his beautiful wife, but his daughter's new friend as well. A friend who was at least twelve years old. Getting over the shock of the age difference, but also realizing how this Chloe had been able to scare the boys away because of that age difference, he took her in with a practiced eye.

She was blond, wearing her long hair loose and speckled with an incredible amount of glitter. Was that some kind of new thing? He'd never seen it taken to such an extreme before, and took a moment to take the effect in. Well, if the girl liked that it was her prerogative to wear it. As long as Angela wouldn't copy it he wasn't bothered by it. How her parents could stand it was another matter, but not his problem.

Tearing his attention away from the strange hairdo, he examined the rest of her. She appeared athletic, he couldn't quite figure out which sports she did but judging by the way she looked he figured it was pretty balanced. Maybe swimming? No, the muscle tone didn't seem to match that.

Ugh, he just noticed the black Goth-like nail polish covering every part of her nails and he had to suppress a shiver of disgust. Her clothes too seemed only designed to draw as much attention as they possibly could: mixing several garish colors, although none of them clashed. On the top of her head she also wore the most ridiculous pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen, and he had no doubt that if she'd walked the streets nobody would willingly talk to her.

Nobody but Angela that is.

Sometimes he despaired at how friendly she always was. At least this girl appeared to be normal - except for her horrific fashion sense - so it wasn't much of a problem. This time.

"Hello," he said when he reached the girl while extending his hand, "I'm Jake."

"Hi, I'm Chloe," the girl said with a smile on her face. Yes, that smile did clean her up quite a bit, and if she'd dressed a bit less extreme it might have even made her pretty. Okay, if she'd dressed quite a bit better. "So, you're Angie's dad? She told me you're a cop, you know that's really cool: keeping the streets safe from the bad guys and everything so the rest of us can walk around safely. Oh, but you're a bit shocked by the way I look, aren't you? Don't worry, it doesn't make you a bad cop, because it always takes time to grow on people. They usually find I'm quite nice underneath this all though, even if they don't believe it at first. Are you alright? You look a bit shocked?

Having stood there gaping in surprise at the girl, Jake blinked in an attempt to make sense of the torrent of words; before giving up. What he'd been able to decipher was that she was actually a nice kid, but that the clothes took attention away from that. Of course, she was the one saying she was nice, and if that was the case why would she be wearing those clothes? In any case, he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "I'm alright, although I must admit your appearance was a surprise."

"I know, and I'm really sorry to hear that. Did Angie tell you how we met yet?"

"Angie? She allows you to call her Angie?" Chloe might have used that name somewhere in that waterfall she used as an introduction, but it was still strange to hear someone call Angela by that name as it wasn't something she usually accepted. In fact, the last time anyone had tried that Angela had thrown up a temper tantrum without equal.

"Well, not immediately, but in the end we decided it was all right for me to call her that. Wasn't it Angie?"

"Only because you insisted on calling me sweetie if I didn't," Angela replied with all the attitude and haughtiness her six years could bring to bear.

Chloe didn't seem fazed by it though and beamed a happy smile at Jake. "Isn't she sweet? I always wanted a little sister, but my mom and dad saw me and decided one child was more than enough. And I didn't even cry that much!"

Having faced one Chloe, Jake could very well understand why nobody would want to have to deal with two of them. Oh god, he suddenly had a horrific thought: what if this kind of behavior was contagious?

Please no, he was fearing Angela's teenage years as it was; there was no need to make it even worse.

Calm, deep breaths. Yes, that's the spirit, calm down. He really should stop thinking about a doom scenario like that: he was far too young for a heart-attack. "I'm sure your parents had other reasons than you for not having a second child." Even as he said it he felt like hitting himself: why did he always have to act the responsible parent for everybody he met? He wasn't the one who should look out for this girl. Oh well, that's why he joined the force.

"Oh, I know that. It's just something I like to say." Ah good, and judging by the defensive tone he figured that she did care quite a bit about her parents.

"Excellent, now why don't you two tell me what happened this afternoon." Pointedly he made sure to include Angela in the request as well.

And of course, Angela started bubbling about it almost before he managed to finish the sentence. "It was great! Well at first it was a bit scary, because they were really big boys."

"They were between ten and twelve years old," Chloe explained quietly, trying not to interrupt Angela.

Ah, that cleared things up a bit, a tiny bit. "Yeah, they were like really old and they were being all mean and stuff. They even hit Toby!"

Toby was the oldest among Angela's friends, at least before she met Chloe, and if these kids had hit him it was no wonder his little girl had been afraid of them. "Go on, what happened then?"

"They were being mean, but before they could do much more Chloe came and helped us! She was really great, walking up to them and telling them to stop. They didn't listen to her, and even tried to hit her. But Chloe was better, and he missed. Then she took his arm and then she did something I didn't see and then he was on the ground. That was so cool! It was as if she used magic or something, and then the other boys ran away and she told the one on the ground to run as well. Because if she saw him again she'd make him wish she hadn't."

Angela had always spoken like this when she was excited, but Jake still took a moment to wish that the similarities with Chloe would end there, and not with how she dressed. In any case, it was quite an explanation. Of course, it was from the perspective of a six-year old which meant that some things had to be taken with a grain of salt.

Others though, were obviously the truth: "So, Chloe, where did you learn to fight like that?" And where did she learn to control herself like that? Jake didn't doubt she could have done serious damage to the boys if she'd wanted. Anyone good enough to act like she had, and didn't continue, had excellent self-control. Something that wasn't all too common these days.

"My cousin Scott taught me, he says he learned it from a real Japanese master, but I think he just learned it in a dojo."

She learned it from her cousin? No way a child could have taught her this well. "What makes you think that?"

"Because that's where I went after a while, and that's where I really learned how to do it." Ah, yes that made more sense.

"Can I go there as well daddy? Mommy said it was all right."

"That's not what I said, honey," Alona interrupted. "I said it might not be a bad idea, but that your father and I would have to discuss it first."

"That's what I said!" Angela said. "So I asked him for you, that'll make everything go quicker and I can go learn how to fight."

Jake didn't like to hear that. Learning to defend herself was one thing, but learning to really fight was another. On the other hand, if she could learn self-control as well it might not be a bad thing. Like Alona said though, they'd have to discuss it first.

"Your mommy and I will talk about, okay?"

Pouting because she hadn't immediately received the answer she liked, Angela nonetheless agreed. "Okay, but you will let me, won't you daddy?" Of course, a little extra emotional blackmail had to be expected.

"We'll see. Now Chloe, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I can't mister Paulson."

"Jake, remember?"

"Jake," she corrected herself, "but I really have to go home now or my mom and dad will be worried."

"You can call them if you want."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose anyway. Besides, mom and dad had something planned for tonight so I have to be home."

Well, if she really didn't want to. "Let me take you home then."

"Oh no, that isn't necessary. I've got a bus pass."

And a bus pass was of course something that needed to be used at every opportunity. "Let me at least take you to the station then."

"Sure, thanks mi- Jake."

"No problem," he smiled at the girl. Chloe seemed nice enough, and if she'd been a little older - and got rid of the hideous clothes and makeup - she might even make an interesting baby-sitter for Angela. After all, she had an advantage most other sitters didn't have: Angela liked her.

Driving the girl to the station she'd indicated would take her straight home, Jake continued with the questions in an attempt to find out more about the girl's character. "Why did you help Angela and her friends?"

"Because they needed it."

"Weren't you afraid the boys might hurt you too?"

A strange smile flitted across Chloe's face. "No, it was obvious they weren't good enough for that. If it had been really necessary I could have taken them all on. Besides, they picked on kids smaller than them, that means they are cowards."

Interesting analysis. It wasn't that Jake disagreed with it; he just didn't expect a little girl to see anything like that. "I'm impressed you can see that, and in any case I'm very grateful for the way you helped Angela."

"No problem," Chloe shrugged, "I'd hate to see something happen to a nice kid like that."

That seemed like a weird thing to say, but as they'd arrived at their destination Jake shrugged it off and asked a question he had no doubt that Angela had already asked. "So, will we see you again anytime soon?"

"Only if it's necessary," was the rather enigmatic return. "Goodbye mister Paulson."

"Only if it's necessary," Jake replied in confusion as the girl got out and made her way to the bus. What could she mean by that?

He didn't puzzle about it for long though, as he noticed Chloe getting on a bus that was already waiting. Turning the car around he made his way home, all the while thinking about the girl. She had seemed even stranger during this ride than she had at home, but he couldn't figure out what it really was that had suddenly put him on edge. Her answers had been a bit strange, even creepy in a way, but that wasn't all.

There was something else about her, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. A thought that started nagging at the back of his head ever since she stepped out of the car.

Parking the car on the driveway he put that thought on hold and turned his focus back on his family: it was time to enjoy their presence. Getting out of the car and into the house he was once again greeted with the exuberant Angela. Soon after the three of them were having dinner and the realization of what had been off about Chloe came crashing down by one of Angela's simple questions.

"Daddy?"

"Yes dear?" Jake asked.

"What is extreme detention?" his little girl asked, clearly proud that she'd so easily managed the two difficult words.

"Extreme detention? What do you mean?"

"Chloe said that a friend of her has that, and she really wants him to be free. But I don't know what it means."

"I figure that it means that her friend isn't allowed out of her room for a long time," Alona decided to answer, as confused as he was.

"Oh, that's really sad. I hope Dave gets out soon then."

Dave.

Jake held a full fork that had been on its way to his mouth, but the moment he realized the situation his hand froze. Now he knew what had been bothering him, but that didn't make any sense! No sense at all! A young girl like that couldn't be so calm in a situation like this. Still, Chloe had been a young, athletic, girl who was very capable of fighting and judging a tactical situation. A girl with a friend named Dave who had 'extreme detention', which was a euphemism if he'd ever heard one.

"Only if it's necessary," he suddenly whispered as a terrible thought struck him. Oh god, the girl had threatened his daughter and he hadn't even noticed it. The flashy clothes, the weird hair, everything had simply been a distraction.

"Jake?" Alona asked while she looked at him strangely.

"Daddy?" Angela piped in, but he didn't answer either of them. If there was one thing he wouldn't tolerate it was someone who threatened his family. Who threatened the people he loved.

Picking up the telephone he dialed the number of his captain, and waited impatiently until the damn machine was answered. As soon as he heard his captain's voice, he spoke "This is Paulson. We've got a lead." In as few words as possible he then described what had happened and what should happen next, all the while knowing that both his daughter and wife were staring at him with surprised looks on their faces.

He would die before he allowed anything to happen to them, but he preferred the other side to suffer those losses.

-x-x-x-

Short author's note: Some of you pointed out the fact that I got Buffy's age wrong in the previous chapter. My apologies for this, it has now been fixed. On another note, while I appreciate all feedback I receive, site policy prevents me from answering any feedback in the story itself, so if you ask questions (and want them answered) it helps if I get any contact information. If you don't want to publish any of them, you can always look at my profile for the link that allows you to send me an e-mail.


	3. The Thief

**The Thief**

Okay, now that was weird. First he'd been practically lifted from the streets within like five minutes of his arrival in LA, and then he'd been interrogated for hours. As if he'd say anything to some cops. Dawn might have been a bit creepy, but she had convinced her boss to help him out when he was in a jam. No way was he gonna rat on someone who did that for him.

Of course, he should have known better than to return this soon, but he'd been missing his friends and in a fit of stupidity he'd believed the worst would have blown over by now. It hadn't, and so he'd ended up in a nice interrogation room with a pair of cops playing good cop, bad cop.

Once again he racked his brain to figure out what he could have possibly told them. There was simply no way they'd let him go like this. Not after first saying they'd try again tomorrow.

Nope. No way. No sirree. This was a trap. Considering they already had him, the trap could only be for three people: Dawn, her boss, or his boss. Which was another thing he wondered about: where did they get the ridiculous idea that he worked for someone? Everybody knew he worked on his own.

And what made them think either Dawn or her boss would actually be stupid enough to let him lead the cops to them? From what he'd gathered during the interrogation she hadn't exactly shown herself in LA since she'd saved him. So why was he standing here now? In front of a police station that had more or less kicked him out. This couldn't be good for his reputation: people would think he'd given something up and every arrest during the next couple of weeks - months - would be seen as to be caused by him.

Wrapping himself a bit tighter in his coat, Dave peered into both dark sides of the street. One direction would take him closer to home, if you could call it that, and the other would let him get out of town again. One might cause him to lead the cops to Dawn and her boss; the other would make people think he'd betrayed them. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

Letting out a deep sigh of frustration he kicked the curb. Why was life this difficult? Why did life suck so much?

Oh well, life sucks and then you die. Wasn't that the attitude you were supposed to have with stuff like this? And no matter how much he told himself he had to make a choice he'd known what it was going to be since before he'd been standing here. Leaving would ruin his life: even if he managed to pick it up in another city, sooner or later someone would find him and confront him.

Nope. Time to face the angry people and possibly spell doom for his favorite little arsonist. Now that was something that had given him nightmares for weeks. What kind of little girl could so easily set a building with people in it on fire? Even if they were already dead?

Stop! He shouldn't think about that.

Once again he sighed, but this time it was followed by turning left and starting to make his way home. He was leading the cops to Dawn! Ah, who was he kidding? No doubt Dawn and her boss had left LA by now and taken their business elsewhere. And what did he care? Just because Dawn was an interesting kid - even though she was still so very young - didn't mean he should get involved with people like that. They were killers, and he hated killing.

Looking behind him to see if he could spot the people following him, Dave didn't notice the other kid until they bumped into each other. "Ow! Watch it man."

"Sorry dude, didn't see you there," the other said with what Dave figured to be an unrepentant grin.

"Yeah well..." Dave started before realizing he'd been as much in the wrong as the other could possibly be. "Ah, never mind."

"Sure thing dude, here let me help you with your coat." And before Dave could even think of protesting, the other was straightening his coat. He could only stand there in confusion until the boy was done and with a jaunty salute was on his way again. Crazy guy.

Of course, the moment the other's back was to him, Dave's hand moved to his inner pocket to check the money that was there. Yes, it seemed to be all there still. This was what he'd had left of Dawn's gift before Christmas, and he was damned if he allowed anyone to take it from him. He was happy enough that the cops had returned it to him. They could have just as easily kept it to check if it was stolen from somewhere.

No use in worrying about all that now. Sticking his hands in his pockets he was about to continue on his way when he felt a piece of paper there. So, the other one had actually given something instead of taken it. Not an accident then, but who would send him a note this way?

Not letting the people following him notice that something was off, Dave continued on his way. He was patient and contained his curiosity. Only after rounding corner did he quickly take out and read it. It was a short note in a handwriting he didn't recognize.

Normally he might have ignored it, seen it as a way for someone to get rid of him, but it was signed with a single letter. The letter D.

Dawn. Dawn had written this note.

The note itself was pretty clear. The meaning of the word taxi was pretty hard to miss, and The Golden Dragon, out through the back was rather obvious as well. Especially as the address for the restaurant was mentioned below the name. Wondering what he should do with the note was another problem though, and he decided to solve it the way they did in movies.

Rolling the piece of paper in a tiny ball, he swallowed it. Luckily it was so small he barely noticed it as it went down his throat. Okay, taxi. In this part of town? Damn, to get one he had to turn around and walk in the other direction. Most taxis didn't come to his part of town if they didn't have to, especially during the night.

Turning around he quickly walked back past the station. Somehow it didn't really surprise him that he didn't spot any of the cops tailing him: obviously they knew that he knew they were following him and so they made it easier for him to forget about it. He really hoped Dawn knew what she was doing though, because this couldn't go as well as she'd planned.

It wasn't long before he could hail a taxi, and told the driver where to go. The man looked him over for a moment before demanding part of the fee in advance. Obviously he didn't think he was good for the money. Dave wasn't happy about it, but gave the man the money he demanded, while consoling himself by the fact that the driver's behavior at least meant he had a good excuse not to give a tip.

During the drive Dave looked through the back window a couple of times, and wasn't at all surprised when several cars kept showing up. Sure, some of them were probably only going in the same direction, but there had to be some cops among them as well. After a drive of about ten minutes the taxi came to a stop in front of a Chinese restaurant: he had arrived.

Casting one last look behind him to see if he could spot the car that had been tailing them - which he couldn't - he paid the driver the remainder of his money and got out to make his way to the entrance. Time to do this.

All right, he should go inside now.

Moving slightly forward, Dave hesitated again. How could he be sure it was Dawn who'd written the note? Maybe it was someone who thought he'd betrayed them?

No, it was way too soon for that. It would've meant they'd had someone hanging around the station all this time, and that didn't make any sense. Except... Dawn had done so as well. Why was he making himself so nervous? He could do this. Forcing himself to take another step he suddenly stood in the door opening. Man, this smelled good!

An impatient cough from behind him showed there were other people waiting to get in and he was holding them up. It was a big group, and he no doubt could join their group without raising the suspicions of the- What did you call them again? The guy who took your name and told you where to sit? It was something French, but he couldn't remember what it was exactly. Natter Dee? No, but something like it.

Mentally shrugging he stepped aside, and smiled at the guy who could now step inside. "Sorry, it just smells so good."

Luckily the guy responded with a smile, and said something the name-taking-guy would probably see as something you said to someone you knew. "Yeah it does, doesn't it. I'm glad we decided on this one."

"True," Dave nodded with a smile while extending his hand in the direction of the name-taking guy. "After you."

"Why thank you," the man said a bit surprised, but he didn't hesitate and stepped forward. "Hi, the Blake party please."

The name-taking guy had a quick look in his book and his smile broadened even more. "Of course sir, please follow me."

With the whole group walking after the man, it wasn't hard for Dave to follow them without being noticed. Man, this place really smelled good. Licking his lips he was really disappointed that he didn't have time to eat something here; the food the cops gave him wasn't nearly as good as this smelled.

Looking around it wasn't long before Dave spotted the restrooms, and the emergency exit with it. Nobody was paying any special attention to him, so he calmly walked in that direction: just a normal customer going about his business. The only thing that might draw any attention was his closed coat, but opening it would show he wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion.

He couldn't immediately go for the exit, that would draw far too much attention, so he first went into the men's room to relieve himself. Washing up he was suddenly distracted by a whisper from the tiny window. "Hey! You Dave?"

"Yeah, who're you?" Dave replied, before silently cursing himself for so easily betraying his identity.

"I've got something for you," the voice said, obviously ignoring the question. See? That's how keeping your identity secret was supposed to be done.

"What do you have?" Dave asked, hoping it wasn't a bullet or anything else lethal.

There was no need to fear though. "Here," the voice indicated while shoving something through the tiny window. Another note fluttered to the ground, and when he picked it up Dave wasn't at all surprised to see it contained more directions. This time he was ordered that as soon as he got out of the restaurant he should go to the subway two blocks away and take the first line headed north. Oh, come on! This was simply getting ridiculous. Who did Dawn think he was? James Bond?

Nevertheless, he did as he was told. Drying off his hands and flushing the note through a toilet was the work of moments. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself he then went to stand in front of the emergency exit. Restaurant people always seemed to pay attention to anyone lingering there. At least they always did when he came to a place like this: they were probably afraid he might slip out without paying.

Which, admittedly, was how Dave had learned the best way to force a door like this open. Of course, he usually had more tools with him, but those hadn't been returned by the cops as they were supposedly criminal tools or something. He really had to ask around if the cops were allowed to keep any of his stuff like that. Or he might not: they might suddenly decide to arrest him for carrying them.

Putting his attention back to the task at hand, Dave was relieved to find there was no need for him to force the lock. Somebody else had already taken care of that. Probably Dawn, although he had no idea how she'd managed to get in and do this without being noticed. Opening the door Dave didn't look around to face the waiter who'd suddenly shouted, but instead ran out of the building.

He ended up in an alley, and looking to one side he could see someone standing at the entrance: the messenger or a cop? Not intending to waste any time on figuring that out, he headed the other way and turned the first corner he encountered. A dead end.

Not too far behind Dave could hear the sound of the angry waiter, a sound he could recognize anywhere, and he joined in with the man's curses. Remembering that cursing wasn't much use he started climbing up the wooden fence blocking his path. He barely made it in time: a moment or two after throwing himself over the top he heard the waiter turn into this alley as well.

"Okay kid, I know you're here. Show yourself and pay your bill like you're supposed to."

For a moment Dave was tempted to say he hadn't actually done anything at the restaurant that required paying a bill, but knew that would only reveal his location. It wasn't like the waiter would believe him anyway, and if he was forced to come along his chance of getting away from the cops was gone.

A look around was in order, he doubted the waiter would climb over the fence, but you never knew with his kind. Alright, he had ended up in some kind of small garden type thingie. It looked pretty ridiculous to him, but if someone wanted to spend money on it, who was he to judge? The fence on the other side of the garden was after all a good way of getting out of here.

Once he'd climbed that fence, Dave ended up in another alley. This time the coast seemed clear, and he was able to walk calmly. After all, walking wouldn't draw nearly as much attention as running around would. Not that there was anyone around to pay attention to him, but that didn't matter: he was getting in the whole James Bond thing now. So, where was this subway station?

It took almost an hour, and three more of the silly letters, before Dave finally came face to face with Dawn. An hour during which he'd lost his interest in playing super spy, and had given him time to build up his anger about the hoops Dawn had made him jump. He had become so pissed off about the ridiculous journey that the moment he saw Dawn Dave opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought of it. Dawn was faster though: "How could you be so incredibly stupid!"

"What?"

"I told you to stay away for at least two months, were you lonely or something?"

Yes, but that didn't matter. Besides, he had his own anger to take out on her, and her behavior only served to fuel that anger. She was like twelve or something! How dare she chew him out as if she were his mother! "Hey! Hold on a damn minute! Who do you think you are? You can't tell me what to do!"

"Well, someone has to because you obviously aren't capable of keeping your head out of trouble!"

As she shouted this at him, Dave took his first good at his surroundings. While he wasn't entirely sure where he was, he had gotten too far out of his normal haunts, it was obviously a well-to-do neighborhood. Was this where Dawn stayed? The park here was pretty quiet, undoubtedly because of the time, but still looked pretty nice. He really should try to get back here during the day: any information he could get about Dawn was welcome. Maybe she was some kind of rich kid used to getting her way.

Even thinking that deflated his anger a bit, and in an attempt to be the mature one he decided to swallow the rest of it. Taking a deep, calming, breath Dave tried to explain that neither she, nor her boss, would have been in any danger. "They wouldn't have gotten anything out of me."

"Says you. I'm sorry if I don't believe you," Dawn bit back, before muttering a string of words he figured were curses. Not that he could understand even a word of them, but they sounded like curses and he'd always been good at recognizing those.

"They're cops, they had nothing to charge me with and would have let me go tomorrow or maybe in a couple of days. They're only allowed to keep me for so long without charging me, you know."

"Somehow I'm not as certain as you seem to be that you would've been able to resist them so long," the girl told him.

Dave sighed, didn't she understand? "Look, I know what they can, and can't, do to me. I could have resisted anything they're allowed to do."

"I still couldn't take the risk."

"And I'm grateful for that, I don't know how you got me out, but it beats the shit out of sitting in a cell," Dave acknowledged, figuring that's what she wanted to hear.

Girls. If they weren't so nice to look at he would've wondered why they even existed.

"I'm not," Dawn stated in a cold voice that made his heart skip a beat.

Turning back to face her, Dave asked the question he didn't really want to be answered."What?"

"I should have let you rot in that cell, or carried out the second plan instead."

Why did he have a bad feeling about this? "Second plan?"

"Ensure you wouldn't be able to talk."

"You mean kill me?" Dave forced the words passed a suddenly parched throat. Well, at least that explained the bad feeling.

"Yes, finding a replacement might have been preferable to this."

Replacement? For him? And hey! What was so bad about this anyway? What had happened to make her this angry? "Why?"

"Why?" She asked him incredulously, "what do you think? The guy who arrested you was competent, and I underestimated him! That's what happens when you spend too much time in a place where the cops are scared of their own shadow. Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Those last three words had been whispered, and Dave had a feeling he hadn't been meant to hear the part before it either. It gave too much away of who she really was, and even from what little he'd learned about Dawn since he met her he figured that wasn't something she usually did. She was really flustered about this situation, and he doubted that was a good thing. Nope, not a good thing at all. What if she'd decide it would be easier to silence him after all? Maybe her boss was looking at him through the scope of a rifle right now.

Trying to dispel the lump in his throat, and doing his best not to notice the way sweat was suddenly pouring off of him, Dave looked around. Could he be on that rooftop over there? Or maybe he was hiding behind that tree over there. Wait! Wasn't that a shiny reflection there on that roof top? Could a sniper rifle reach that far?

"Don't worry," Dawn stopped his anxious looking with her curt words, "if we wanted you dead we wouldn't be talking right now. From now on though, you will listen to me when I tell you to do something. You were lucky I was around, but I doubt you'll feel that way once the cops start hounding you again."

Well, that was a relieve. Not! "What do you mean start hounding me again?"

The pitying look she gave him wasn't something he liked to see on anyone's face. "They think you will be able to lead them to me. From now on you should believe your every move is shadowed: that nobody will be safe around you."

"Oh great, yeah that'll do my reputation a load of good."

"It is a consequence of your own actions, had you listened to me-"

"Yeah, yeah," Dave interrupted her before she could nag some more. Sheesh, didn't the girl ever stop? "I was bad, I was stupid, and I should have suffered more for what I did. Please forgive me, oh great fountain of wisdom, and lead me to a path of redemption."

"Cute, not funny, but cute," Dawn said in a bored tone. "No matter how much it pains me though, there is a kernel of truth in what you said: if you're to be of any use in the near future you'll have to learn how to get rid of the officers following you."

Raising his eyebrows, Dave mentally scoffed at her words. "And you're gonna teach me that? No offence, but aside from the whole spy-kids things what do you think I'll be able to learn from you?"

For a moment Dawn seemed to be about to say something, but even while she had her mouth open she shook her head and closed it again. "No, you won't need to hear examples. I don't have time for it anyway, so you'll be on your own unless you find someone willing to teach you. Although I have a feeling that's not going to be easy with the police following you everywhere."

"Great, so you're not even going to try to help me? I thought you were my friend or something," Dave bitterly said. He was curious though: what kind of example had she been about to give?

The twisted little smile appearing on Dawn's face was the closest thing to an emotion, aside from anger, he'd seen her display during this conversation and it was one that made him feel slightly sick in his stomach. "Friends are weaknesses."

The importance of her words didn't immediately penetrate, but once it did he was surprised: that couldn't be real, could it? "You mean you don't have any friends? That's not healthy you know. Everybody needs friends."

Dawn had wearied of the conversation however, and with a sudden wave to his right she pointed at an apartment building just barely visible above the trees. "Apartment 23 is free at the moment, and I believe somebody has accidentally opened it and left a sleeping bag. Be back here at eight, and we'll see what we can do." Having said that, Dawn turned around and calmly walked away from him.

For a moment Dave stood still in surprise. She'd dismissed him! He couldn't let a little girl trample all over him. It took a couple of seconds to gather his wits, by which time Dawn had already started on a shaded path through the surrounding trees, but once he did Dave started after her. Not that it was any use as he quickly lost sight of her when she walked around a bend in the path.

How did she do that?

Standing still he frustratingly asked himself where she could have gone, even going so far as to continue to where he last saw her and start looking for her. Stepping of the path he even looked behind some of the bushes. Of course, the only bushes he couldn't see clearly, but decided to move aside anyway, had thorns. Sucking the hand, that was now full of scratches, Dave decided to actually look up - something the idiots in movies always forgot - but there was nothing there either.

Great. Just great. So she did actually know something about losing a tail. Well of course she did, who was he kidding? Wasn't Dawn some kind of assassin in training or something? She wouldn't be very good if she couldn't even lose him, would she?

But she was such a little kid, when she'd been angry earlier he'd almost believed she might start stamping her feet in anger. Just like Cassie used to do. No, pressing his eyes tightly shut Dave tried to put that thought out of his head. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry.

Repeating the mantra over and over to himself, Dave started to make his way to the building Dawn had pointed out. He was tired, and maybe tomorrow would look better. He'd had to live with this long enough to know he wouldn't be good for anything until he'd slept anyway.

Getting into the building was pretty easy, and within minutes Dave had found apartment 23. Dawn had been right about the door - like that was a surprise - but she might have mentioned the way it smelled. The musty smell hanging in the room indicated nobody had lived there for months, if not years, and in the meantime nobody had bothered to actually open a window to let some clean air inside.

Great, he mentally sighed. Finding the sleeping bag wasn't exactly difficult, what with the whole apartment being completely empty and all, but he was surprised to find a battery-powered alarm-clock there as well. Checking the thing, it was immediately clear who'd put it there as the alarm was set for seven o'clock. Obviously she didn't want him to be late. For a moment he debated switching it off, but eventually decided that angering Dawn even more wouldn't be anything close to a good idea.

Hurriedly undressing - it was a bit cold - it wasn't long before Dave could slip into the comfortable sleeping bag and closed his eyes. Doing his very best to empty his mind he tried to fall asleep immediately, but failed when memories of Cassie returned to him. Eventually he gave up his attempt to sleep and surrendered himself to those bittersweet memories.

When the alarm woke him up the next morning it wasn't the thing he became the most aware off. Oh, it was there, bleating in his ears, but the first thing his mind made him actually aware of were his eyes: his sticky, puffy, swollen, eyes.

The memories of those good times - and how they'd ended - had done what they always did: caused him to cry himself to sleep. It wasn't something he was proud of, and he really didn't want anyone to find out, but he'd learned to live with it over time. Unfortunately the alarm suddenly decided to become even louder and with a slap he shut the annoying thing off.

"I'm awake," he muttered before starting to look for somewhere he could wash his face.

Turning the taps in the bathroom he quickly decided they were no good. He should have realized it of course, but the shock of finding out that there was no water available was far from pleasant. In his own building, well the one where he slept at least, somebody had long ago taken care of the water supply. Admittedly he didn't have a private bathroom there either, but somehow he didn't think that the inhabitants of this building would appreciate it if he came by to ask them for water.

Great, the thinking about water had informed him of another pressing need, and he was damned if he were to pee in a corner somewhere. He had his standards after all. He still had about an hour before he was to meet Dawn, as well as money, so he could easily slip by a coffeeshop to get something to eat. Swallowing his pride he therefore walked out of the building with his tear-streaked face and made for a place he'd noticed on his way to the apartment the night before.

Beyond all hope, they hadn't actually kicked him out as soon as he set a foot inside the door, he had been able to not only eat his fill at the coffeeshop, but had been allowed to wash up as well. His story about having only just arrived in LA after a rough night in the bus had been believed. Okay, maybe not actually believed but the woman behind the counter hadn't pushed him about anything either.

And now, having eaten his fill of delicious sandwiches, he was standing once again in the middle of the park. Dawn should arrive at any time now, and he wondered what today would bring. She hadn't expected him, that was obvious, so he wasn't sure what she thought they should do. On the other hand, if he judged her boss well enough there was probably a plan that involved him leading Dawn somewhere.

"Hey," Dawn said from behind him, and as he turned around he had his first good look at her since the month before. Yesterday everything was dark and he hadn't noticed the differences, but now they were pretty clear to him. She looked... different. Well yeah, that's the whole point of differences, but it was difficult to say what exactly was so diffirent about her. It was almost as if she was more at peace with herself, that she knew better who and what she was.

Considering she killed people he wasn't sure whether that was such a good thing though. Having learned on the streets that every little thing about people was important, he peered a bit deeper and what he saw there wasn't as good. It was well hidden, and it might actually be a ruse, but it seemed there was a bit of strain about her. Almost as if there was something going on she didn't like, but couldn't interfere with. He just hoped it didn't concern him in any way.

Oh, of course. Now he remembered, last time she had long hair, but it had been cut short now. Well, it wasn't as if he claimed to always remember that kind of stuff. Besides, their first meeting hadn't exactly been optimal for remembering minor things like what her hair looked like. Anyway, now that he'd solved the great mystery, it was time to get back to business.

"Hey, so are we gonna talk here, or somewhere else?" he returned the greeting. Here was pretty comfortable, and there weren't many people around, but it was rather exposed as well.

"There's no need for us to talk for long. I need you to take me to a forger, someone competent when it comes to setting up an identity and delivering the necessary Id's."

To the point as usual, and guess what? He'd been right about everything. "What would you have done if I hadn't been around, asked someone else?"

"Maybe, maybe it could have waited. In any case, you're here so it doesn't matter."

Wonderful, one of those useful answers. "Okay, I might know someone who's into that sort of stuff," or maybe even a couple. "Aren't you afraid we'll encounter cops though? You were so pissed off about that last night..."

Dawn shook her head at his words. "No, they'll try to follow you, but we'll be careful today. And most of the anger from yesterday was at myself, for making such a big mistake."

What kind of mistake? No matter, he didn't even want to know. "It doesn't really matter anyway, the best one I know doesn't live anywhere near me. She is expensive though: can you afford it?"

"Everything is expensive. After we're done at the forger it might be a good idea if we'd go look for a new job though."

Oh happy, happy, joy, joy. First of all, what was with the we? Dave sure hoped she meant her boss and her, because the alternative wasn't exactly to his liking. And second, why was it that he didn't even have to guess who would be appointed to help her in finding that new job.

Still, she had helped him when he was in trouble as well: twice even. That reminded him, and while they started walking he asked his question: "How did you find out I'd been arrested anyway?"

"By accident," Dawn started to explain, carefully choosing her words as the chances of meeting people increased. "I was buying something from that friend of yours you introduced me to last time I was here."

"Friend?"

"The one with the rules about children." Oh, Tony. So, she'd bought more guns. Dave wasn't quite sure whether he was happy she hadn't involved him in that, or disappointed. Not that there had been any choice on her part with him being away and all, but Tony was his friend.

That didn't tell him how she found out though. "Did he tell you or something?"

Dawn shook her head to deny that. "No, some kid came running and shouting you were back, and how you were met by some people upon your arrival."

"Kyle," Dave smiled. His friend was still as predictable as ever. Still, kid? Kyle was older than Dawn and she called him kid. Was that how she thought about him?

"Could be," Dawn shrugged, "in any case I got enough information out of him to find out what had happened and now we're walking here on our way to this other friend of yours."

Impressive, she'd managed to explain the situation to him without mentioning anything that could be used against her. The streets around here were still pretty quiet, but once in a while they did meet some people. Strangely enough these people greeted them, causing him to reflexively greet them back. It wasn't until they met yet another smiling woman he realized how they must look to these people.

Just another brother walking around with his little sister.

Whether Dawn had realized the same thing, or if she knew he knew as well now, didn't matter as she suddenly took hold of his hand and started swinging it back and forth. Just a playful pair of siblings walking the streets.

He snatched his hand away as if it had been burned. No. There were limits to what he would endure, and this was well beyond them. He hadn't walked like that with anyone since Ca-. No! He wouldn't think about that either. Focus on the mission; focus on the goal.

All he had to do today was take Dawn to Victoria and he'd be able to go back home. Okay, he probably had to take her to someone who would help her find a target for her boss as well, but Dave still held some hope he would be able to wiggle out of that one.

"What's wrong?" Dawn suddenly asked him in a chirpy tone. Now that was creepy. Dave knew she must be capable of sounding like that, but to actually hear it... no that really didn't suit what he knew about her.

"Nothing," was his simple answer. He did stop cradling his hand though, and let it rest between them again. Unlike a real sister, Dawn was smart enough to leave it alone this time.

The two of them walked together in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a while, and he noted there weren't nearly as many people who greeted them. So, the greetings had something to do with the happy thing. He should remember that. Eventually he guided Dawn towards the subway station he'd arrived at the night before and got on.

Being a Sunday there was more than enough space at this time of day, so the two of them took seats. Something he didn't mind in the least. He hadn't rested all that well during the night after all, and while these seats weren't exactly something to write home about they did allow him to catch up on that rest a bit.

Unfortunately Dawn didn't seem to want to remain quiet.

"Dave?" Dawn asked in that sickeningly sweet and chirpy voice again.

"Yes?" he answered cautiously. What was she after?

"I saw this movie the other day, about someone who forged passports and stuff. Do you know which movie I'm talking about?"

For a moment Dave stared at the girl uncomprehending. What was she talking about? When realization hit, it wasn't something he was happy about. Not a movie at all, but simply a way to speak about Victoria without anyone knowing what they were talking about. He couldn't resist a sigh, and rested his head against the cool window as he suddenly got a lot more tired. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about."

"Great. I think I missed a bit though, as I can't remember her background. You've seen it as well, so could you maybe tell me? Pleeeeaaaase?"

The almost begging expression on her face came close to making him physically ill. This girl before him looked and acted like a normal twelve-year old might be, but he knew she was far from normal. "Alright, what do you want to know?"

"Yay!" Dawn cheered raising her arms in obvious happiness, an action that earned her a smile from a woman seated a couple of chairs away. "Where did she come from, how did she get to be so good, and why did everybody trust her like that?"

In other words, who the hell are you taking me to?

"Victoria is a professional who's done this kind of thing for years, is extremely good at it, and is under the protection of a number of big players. She only accepts new clients that are recommended by people she trusts, and even then she does an extensive background check."

"Background check?" Dawn interrupted. "Wouldn't that leave her with a lot of blackmail material?"

"Victoria is trusted more than most priests when it comes to keeping secrets. She works for everybody, and doesn't tell anybody anything she knows about her clients. It also means all her clients make sure she doesn't show up on the radar of the police at all. After all, if she's ever arrested they will have a problem." It also meant Victoria would know more about Dawn and her boss than he did. Which he still had mixed feelings about.

"I take it if anything happens to her everybody will be unhappy?"

"Of course, the key to a long and happy life in her case is that her lawyers know what to do when she dies. And her clients know what that is."

"That shows why everybody trusts her, but is there anything more known about her? Where she came from for example?"

"Only what it says on her ID, and you can't trust the ID of a forger."

Dawn nodded at this in understanding. Not that she was finished with her questions, but at least it seemed like she accepted this. "So, what about the kid?"

"The kid?" Dave had to think what she meant by that, but he didn't quite get what she meant by it.

"Yeah, the boy, Dave." Oh, she was talking about him.

"What about him?" Not that he didn't suspect, but he didn't really want to tell her about that.

"How did he meet her? And became one of those people she trusts."

Sometimes using movie metaphors made life easier, and Dave had to suppress a smile at what he was about to tell her. "It was never explained in the movie, but there was that scene where he said he knew everyone."


	4. The Forger

**The Forger**

Sitting comfortably on the couch and reading an intriguing mystery was one of those things Victoria simply loved to do on a Sunday. As she didn't have any appointments with friends, and the people in need of a new identity knew better than to come by on a Sunday, this meant she was free to spend her time doing exactly that.

It was therefore a bit annoying when her empty stomach made its presence, and desires, known. Not that Victoria particularly minded having a snack while she was reading, although always one that wouldn't leave her fingers sticky, but in this case it was far too early for a snack. She'd planned to eat her breakfast over an hour earlier, in fact she would have done so immediately after her shower, except that she'd decided to read one more chapter first.

If that annoying book hadn't been so engrossing she might have actually eaten by now, instead of having to stop reading to do so. It was just such a good book! At least she'd been smart enough not to take it up with her to her bedroom last night. If she'd done that there was no way she'd gotten out of it before noon, and that would have been a waste of a good day. Still, her hunger was growing and while Victoria was loath to put the book away, she forced herself to do so anyway.

After she'd finished the current chapter of course.

Getting up from the couch Victoria walked to the kitchen, but stopped before the large mirror she passed on her way there. Aside from having a decorative function, this mirror was often used by clients who didn't bring a photo and needed her to take one. Not that it was those memories that made her stop in front of the mirror.

That was simply her job, and while it was expected she would be available at any time that didn't mean she would think about it when she didn't have anything to do. No, the reason she stopped at the mirror was a far simpler one: the way she'd been curled up on the couch had messed up her still damp hair so she needed to fix it.

Looking into the mirror she couldn't help but stare at her own face. A face that was amazing in how unremarkable it was, although she couldn't help but think that age had brought the kind of beautiful maturity to it she'd wished for when she was still young. Being in her forties did have its advantages, mostly with regards to her clients having more faith in her abilities, but there were some obvious disadvantages as well. Like her luck with men.

When she'd been younger she had often longed to look as beautiful as she imagined the female forgers were in the books she read, but eventually she'd grown over that silly wish. While beauty was a nice thing to have, it was neither needed nor useful in her occupation. Especially as it hadn't been uncommon in those days for her to suddenly be forced to leave town when the police came after her, and having a face nobody ever seemed to remember made that a lot easier.

Because of that constant moving she had never really taken the time, or had the commitment to spend enough time with anybody to find someone with whom she could share her life. Even in those couple of cases where she'd actually tried to do so it usually ended before it had even started as one of her identities ceased to exist and she used another in a different city.

Strange how she had been so desperate for comfort back then. Not that she wouldn't like someone to share her life with now, but she'd resigned herself to a life of solitude.

Unfortunately, finding someone to spend even a couple of weeks with wasn't very easy either. A single night, or even a couple of nights, wasn't a problem, but longer lasting relationships were practically impossible. Although, to be honest, she couldn't exactly blame that on age or lack of beauty: when she'd moved here she'd still been young. It was simply that there was too much she couldn't talk about. Secrets always had a way of coming between relationships, no matter how hard you tried to work around them.

Going through her hair with her brush, Victoria brought the dark mass back into shape. Even now, after having been Victoria for almost fifteen years it still amazed her how nice it was to have long hair like this. And while she knew it was stupid to feel anything about something as unimportant as her hair, Victoria did hope she wouldn't need to become Irene any time soon. That woman had short, blond, hair. Neither of which she really wanted at the moment, but which would therefore be an effective disguise.

Stopping her brushing, Victoria stared in her own eyes - at least they were their natural color: she'd gotten sick of wearing colored lenses years ago - and admonished herself. She was really getting soft in her old age: why would it matter if she would have to change her looks? When the time came she would simply leave Victoria behind the same way she'd left Karen, Mary, Patricia, and all those others behind.

She hadn't used the name given to her by her mother since she was fifteen, and losing that one had been the hardest. Just because she'd been called Victoria for the same amount of time didn't mean losing it again should be just as hard. Angrily she brushed her hair back into shape. This was why she hated to think about the realities of her life: it only made her feel depressed and would spoil her day. No. She wouldn't allow that to happen.

The day was still young and she had no clients or anything else that would take her time. She was the one who could decide what she wanted to do. Maybe she should go to the fitness club later on. She usually did her exercises at home, but it might be nice to do a workout while she was among other people. Besides, there was no use in letting her life-time pass go to waste.

Looking at the mirror, Victoria gave her hair one final stroke with the brush before she was satisfied with it. Continuing to the kitchen she quickly prepared her breakfast: a couple of sandwiches was all she needed, and within several minutes she was sitting at her dining table. A glass of milk, some healthy sandwiches, and she would be able to continue with the book. With that pleasant plan firmly in mind, she made quick work of the breakfast.

Putting away the plate and glass, Victoria was more than ready to continue with the book, but was stopped from immediately doing so when the ringing of her doorbell announced she had visitors. Visitors who would no doubt prevent her from getting back to her book.

Maybe she could pretend to be away?

No, that wouldn't really work either, no matter how tempting it was. She just hoped it was a friend, and not a client. The last thing she wanted to do today was go through the whole identity creation spiel with somebody.

Looking at the security feed she was therefore relieved to see there were only two children. Until about a second later, that is, when she recognized one of them. Dave? David Boyd? She knew the boy pretty well, maybe even better than most of his friends did, but he'd been arrested yesterday. She'd figured the police would keep him longer than this.

So, what would bring him here? A casual visit seemed a bit strange, and he couldn't possibly afford her services. The implications of that weren't something she liked. But no, she couldn't see Dave as a snitch: he was far too loyal to his friends. Victoria pursed her lips as she considered the situation.

Was there anything the police could have offered Dave that would make him betray her? It simply seemed so unlikely, so out of character for the boy. Besides, if he'd betrayed her why hadn't she been raided yet? Of course, if they wanted to catch her in the act there wouldn't be a raid, but instead Dave would have brought a new 'client' with him.

Maybe he had, Victoria suddenly thought, maybe Dave had actually brought a new client with him. It could be the police believed that she would actually set up an identity for a child. Not that she had never done so, after all some of her clients had children, but a single child who was at the most thirteen years old? That would be a first.

The girl outside suddenly turned to look straight at the camera - the well-hidden camera - and the moment Victoria saw those eyes she was intrigued. This was no ordinary girl: there was something about her that was out of this world, and the tight smile she directed at the camera was one full of knowledge.

"I don't think she's home," came through the audio feed.

"Don't give up so soon Dave, she's simply watching us through her cameras."

"Cameras? She has cameras here? Where?" Dave answered, as he tried to look at everything simultaneously. If the situation hadn't been so strange, Victoria might have laughed at his confused behavior.

By now all her attention was focused on the girl though. "They're hidden, but I have no doubt they're there." Considering that the girl stared straight at the main camera, Victoria didn't doubt that the girl knew exactly where at least one of the cameras was hidden.

"Is it hidden inside that cross you're staring at? I've always thought it was a bit freaky for Victoria to have something like that at her door as she doesn't even believe in God."

There was no need to believe in God to recognize the effects His tools had on certain beings. "No, putting a camera in a cross would probably make it useless."

"Well, you could probably put a small one in there," Dave said, but Victoria didn't pay any attention to his explanation. The girl was right, but not in the way Dave believed: the camera interfered with the purpose of the cross.

This girl knew. This girl knew about the things that stalked the night. Even among the criminals here in LA, where there were far more vampires than any other city she'd lived in, there weren't many people who were willing to admit to themselves that the nightmares were real. For this girl to know about them was therefore very intriguing. Besides, the girl seemed slightly familiar although she couldn't quite remember from what. Either way, Victoria wanted to talk to this girl.

Triggering the loudspeaker, she spoke into it. "I'll be right there."

Switching the monitor back to its secondary function, Victoria heard Dave say "I guess you were ri-" before it was cut off by the familiar sounds belonging to CNN.

Time to meet this strange little girl.

Opening the door, Victoria was face-to-face with the girl for the first time, an experience that wasn't as impressive as it might have been. No, she should use the right words: an experience that was nothing special. Still, she remained intrigued and waited for the children to speak up.

"Hey Victoria," Dave said.

"Hello Dave," she said back, before switching the topic to where she wanted it, "who's your friend."

"Oh right. Victoria, this is Dawn. Dawn, Victoria," Dave introduced them.

Dawn nodded her head in greeting. "Hi."

"Hello Dawn," Victoria greeted back, "why don't the two of you come inside?" Where there was less chance of anyone overhearing their conversation.

Stepping back she allowed the two of them to pass her. Dave led the way into the living room, but Dawn waited until Victoria told her to follow him. Wait a minute, could this be the girl about who so many rumors were doing the rounds? The girl who worked for this new, and mysterious, assassin?

That would be interesting as it meant she would finally learn something about him. As she was rather fond of Dave she'd tried to find out about the people he'd fallen in with, but even her sources had come up with a complete blank. Concerning the girl there wasn't much more than a vague description and some tall tales about her skills, but compared to her boss even that was an incredible amount of information.

Yes, this day might turn out to be rather useful after all.

Joining the children in the living room, she asked if they wanted something to drink. While Dave asked for his usual coke, the girl asked for tea. Not the first time a girl asked her that, but there was something about this girl that made it seem different. She had no idea how or why, but that's how it was. Still, she gave the only answer she could, one that usually meant another drink was chosen. "I only have orange-pekoe, is that okay?"

Dawn froze. There was no other way to describe it, and she didn't need to. For a couple of seconds nothing about the girl moved, until she suddenly seemed to realize what had happened and made herself react. Even so, her voice was a bit hoarse, as if she'd been reminded of something painful. "That's fine."

Weird, but she could think about the reasons later. Walking into the kitchen, Victoria kept up the conversation. "So Dave, I haven't seen you around for a while."

"I was out of town. Something happened which made it pretty important that I left for a while."

"So I've heard," Victoria answered, "and I must admit I hadn't expected to see you this soon. Didn't you come back a bit early?"

Even from the kitchen, she could almost see the grimace he would have on his face now. "Maybe."

"Try definitely," Dawn interjected.

"Not again," was Dave's sighed reply, and Victoria couldn't prevent the grin from growing on her face. So, the girl had already taken him to task about that. It seemed she was indeed pretty smart.

It would be a couple of minutes before the tea was ready so, taking a glass of coke for Dave, she joined the children again in the living room and handed Dave his drink. "Here you are."

"Thank you."

"So, Dawn, will we need to embarrass Dave even more, or are you going to tell me a bit about yourself?"

Dawn looked at her for a moment, before turning her head to the window. "Interesting decorations you have. Do they work?"

Decorations? For a moment Victoria didn't understand what Dawn meant. "Oh, the crosses?"

"And the less well-known religious items you've spread around your garden."

Impressive. There weren't many people who noticed the first barrier, and even less who knew what they were. Was the girl capable of magic? "You know how it is, there are always times you can use some divine help."

"Maybe," Dawn answered noncommittally, "although it looks like you did a good job with them."

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Not knowing for sure, Victoria decided to take it for one. "Thanks." With all the talk about the hidden demonic stuff, a memory began to tingle at the back of her head: a memory that indicated she really ought to know who this girl was.

Of course, the way her hair was cut, the type of clothing, the innocent looking eyes, and even the weird reaction to the tea - that she now realized was the same Kirika offered Chloe in the series - almost made her think she was talking to Kirika Yumura but, aside from the whole non-Japanese thing that Dawn had going for her, that wasn't someone who really existed. Victoria shook her head at that; comparing real people to anime characters? She really should cut back on watching television.

Still, there was something about the girl she should remember, and she wouldn't do anything until she figured out what it was. Luckily the teakettle chose that moment to announce it was done; giving her the excuse she needed to go into the kitchen.

In the kitchen she first took the kettle from the fire, but instead of immediately pouring it into a cup for Dawn, Victoria checked the search she'd started earlier. It was a habit of hers to look up everyone who came into her house, no matter for what purpose, although she would have done that with Dawn anyway. The search wasn't very extensive: it was simply a search for keywords through her own files, but that was usually enough to find what she was looking for. Just as it was this time around.

Except that the results weren't even close to what she'd expected. Admittedly, she didn't know much about the girl yet, but from the impressions she'd gathered during their brief conversation she figured Dawn was indeed the girl who'd so casually caused the deaths of the Gilded Rings. That couldn't be right though.

The picture in her files was a bit dated: among others, the hair had changed dramatically, but it still showed the girl sitting in her living room. Dawn Summers, daughter of Hank and Joyce Summers, sister of Buffy Summers. The Slayer.

She had the sister of a Slayer in her living room. Victoria was star-struck. Ever since finding out about what really happened in the night, she had been impressed by the people who took a stand against it. To fight against a never ending darkness was to her one of the bravest things any human could do.

And then she'd learned about the Slayer...

In a world where she'd always believed the only superheroes could be found in comics, the greatest of them all lived. A hero without equal. A hero who would willingly give her life in order to protect humanity as a whole. A hero who would go out every night and destroy the evil threatening everything she cared for. A hero without whom the world would have been lost to the darkness millennia ago.

And every time one of these heroes died, another would willingly take her place. Never complaining about taking up this heavy duty. Always ready to do what was needed despite her own youth.

To Victoria the Slayer was like the holy grail: something both normal and so far beyond it that it was difficult to understand it even existed in this world. And the girl in her living room was the Slayer's sister.

Well, sort of.

Never had she been so close to the Slayer; even when she'd first learned the current Slayer had lived in Los Angeles - something she only found out after the Slayer had moved to Sunnydale - Victoria had never expected to get this close to her.

Well, at least it explained how Dawn was able to recognize all the religious items and their purpose. No doubt her entire family was aware of everything that had to do with the supernatural. Victoria had long suspected the reason behind the divorce of Hank and Joyce was an excuse so they could collect information from two different places without drawing too much attention to their constant travelling.

Trembling a little, she poured Dawn's tea. She had to bring herself under control. Just because she was in the presence of the Slayer's sister didn't mean she should act like some kind of groupie. It did raise the question of what Dawn was doing here. Maybe she'd been mistaken about her being an assassin after all.

All the small signs she'd taught herself to recognize could be explained by an extensive exposure to demons. Picking up the cup so she could bring it to the girl, Victoria hesitated before taking one last glance at the file displayed on the monitor. No, there was more to this girl than being the sister of the Slayer, but she would have to find out what that was for herself.

The information she had on Dawn was obviously dated, that much was for certain. Whether she acted for her sister, or for herself, the fact remained that she was building up connections into the underworld. And not the underworld Slayers usually concerned themselves with.

Alright, time for answers. Once again she switched the monitor to CNN, before moving back into the living room and handing Dawn her drink. For almost a minute the three of them remained silent: Victoria studying Dawn, Dawn studying Victoria, and Dave being a bit confused. It was obvious Dawn knew what had taken her so long in the kitchen. The girl was far better at reading people than anything her file signified.

In that case: let's take off the gloves.

"So, what brings the two of you here?"

"Information, help, the usual." Dawn bluntly said, understanding that talking around the issue was pretty much useless.

"What kind of information?" Victoria decided to ask first. The help was obvious, as there was only one kind she could give.

"I have money that is lying around uselessly. My boss has decided that putting it into stocks might be a good way of handling it. You seem like the kind of person who knows her way around in that world."

"That I do." Why deny the truth about this? Even if she'd believed this might be a setup, this question was perfectly legal. "Do you have any ideas about potential investments?"

"IT."

Short and to the point. Also not quite what she'd expected as IT was a bit of a risky investment. At the moment they were generally at the rise, but you never knew when a new technology would make everything obsolete. "Anything more specific?"

"For the short term some of the more public Internet start-ups. After that we'll move on to the search engines, Apple, and some of the standard stuff like IBM and Microsoft."

That sounded a bit strange, investing in start-ups with the whole Y2K thing coming up? But that wasn't even the worst. "Apple? They'll be dead in two years."

"Long live the iPod."

"What?" Dawn didn't seem inclined to give more information though, so Victoria switched to another question. "For how long do you want these investments?"

"The Internet start-ups until the beginning of 2000. Or maybe a little shorter, the boss hasn't really decided on that yet."

Not based on the Y2K thing then. "Why until then?"

"The bubble will burst around that time."

Right. Obviously the girl and her boss - her sister? - had thought about this already, but what bubble? "All right, we'll work out the details later, and I'll see what I can do for you. Any other information, or shall we get down to your real business here?"

Dawn hesitated, but finally shook her head to show there was no other information she required. Or probably more to the point: there was no other information she was willing to ask about in front of Dave. "You know why I'm here."

"It's a Sunday. I like to rest on a Sunday."

"I'm sure this wouldn't be the first time you had to work on a Sunday. Besides, it doesn't have to be done today."

How nice, Victoria sarcastically thought. "Before we do anything there are certain things I want to know. Things we'll discuss in private."

Once again Dawn only nodded in reply.

"Dave, I'm not sure how long we'll need, but, if you want to, you can watch some TV while we're working."

"I'll be fine Victoria. You go and dig into Dawn's secrets," Dave answered with an almost uninterested wave of his hand. Of course, he wasn't nearly as good an actor as he believed himself to be so Victoria knew full well he didn't like how in less then an hour from now she'd know more about Dawn than he did.

Tough luck, she didn't like to be disturbed on a Sunday. "Follow me Dawn," Victoria said as she rose from the couch and led the way to the room she'd reserved for these meetings.

"There we go," Dawn spoke nearly inaudible as they walked into the room itself. That short sentence once again brought back the impression she was talking to one of her favorite anime characters, but Victoria dispelled that thought.

With a sigh of contentment Victoria lowered herself into the comfortable leather chair on her side of the desk, while indicating to Dawn she should take the one on the other side. A couple of keystrokes later, and she was once again looking at Dawn's file. It was times like these that she really appreciated the money she'd invested in her information systems.

"So, what didn't you want to ask about in front of Dave?" Victoria asked.

"I need to know something else."

"That part I'd already figured out."

The slight dig didn't seem to faze Dawn as she continued. "I've been looking for information on something, but I haven't been able to find anyplace in LA that might be able to supply me with it."

"And what makes you think I do? I don't generally give out information."

"I doubt you'll have the information, but considering the defences around your house you might be able to give me a hint on where to look."

"Something supernatural? I'm not sure-"

"I only need to know the name of a store or person who might have access to any information concerning a group of vampires called the Scourge of Europe, and the one called Angelus in particular." For the first time since the girl had stepped inside her house, Victoria thought Dawn might not be in total control of herself. The focused, and almost desperate, look in Dawn's eyes showed that this question was far more important than it might seem.

Which didn't make any sense. "Can't your sister get those for you?" The moment she said those words Victoria regretted them. She had wanted to confront Dawn with her knowledge about who the girl was, but not yet.

It did have the effect she'd been hoping for though. With confrontations like these there were usually two options between which her guests chose. Some of them froze, but a fair number of them simply reacted to a perceived threat and had their respective weapons pointed at her within a matter of moments. Dawn did neither, which immediately increased the respect Victoria felt for the young girl.

Dawn's reaction consisted of a brief closing of her eyes followed by a simple reply to the question. "We have already gone through everything she can get her hands on, but that isn't enough."

"To be honest, I've never heard of these vampires, but I can probably give you some addresses you can try. I take it they are dangerous?"

"Yes."

Victoria nodded her head as she considered her next words. "Are they in Sunnydale right now?"

"Yes."

"Guess I'd better stay away from there then."

"Yes."

"You haven't asked how I knew who you are."

"No."

This time Victoria couldn't stop the sigh that the short answer elicited from her. Oh yes, there was far more to this girl than being the 'sister' of the Slayer. "Don't you want to know, or do you know already?"

"Yes."

Okay, she should have seen that one coming so she tried again, but this time with one question at a time. "You already know?"

"I suspect."

Yes! A long answer! Even in her mind Victoria could hear the sarcasm drip from her own statement. "What do you suspect?"

"Why?"

Why did she ask this? "Because you need my help, are in my house, and therefore play by my rules."

"You know who my sister is."

"True, I've known about her for over a year now." Let's see if Dawn would react to that.

"You know what she is."

"Of course."

"You keep an eye on her and everyone around her. Which is how you recognized me."

"Yes." Hah! Two could play that game. When Dawn remained silent after that Victoria realized the girl had no intention of saying anything more, and therefore had to break the silence herself.

"Very well. Some other questions: you're the girl who ensured Dave got rescued from the Gilded Rings, aren't you?"

"Yes." Great, they were back to that.

"I understand you have a boss, what is his or her name?"

"Altena."

"Cute, not funny but cute. It fits with the whole Kirika act you've got going, but somehow I doubt your boss lives in a ruin somewhere on the border of France and Spain." Once again emotion showed itself on Dawn's face. This time it was surprise. "What? You didn't think I know Noir? I admit you're good at playing it. If I didn't know any better I might have actually suspected you are Kirika, but we both know that's impossible. Now, that was your first and last lie. Lie again and you'll have to look elsewhere to take your business."

Dawn visibly considered her options, but to Victoria's relief she didn't move out of the chair. She wanted to know more about the enigma in front of her, and she couldn't do that if Dawn went somewhere else. However, she wouldn't compromise her own rules for anyone either.

"Let's try again: who is your boss?"

"I don't have one."

Okay, that was unexpected, and slightly unbelievable. Dawn might be fairly competent, but was she actually good enough to kill all those Gilded Rings? That didn't seem possible, and Victoria was about to turn the girl out when a look at her screen reminded her forcibly of the most important fact about Dawn. It seemed impossible, but it would explain the girl's infatuation with Noir, and Kirika in particular.

Could it be? "Tell me something about your youth, something you remember yourself and not something that was told to you."

"What?" Dawn looked as surprised as she sounded, and Victoria could practically read her thoughts. Dawn had expected to be thrown out for that answer, but now she had to answer something that didn't appear to be relevant in any way.

"Anything, a day out to Disney Land, a joke you played on your sister, anything."

Looking sceptical, but not willing to risk being thrown out, Dawn started. "A couple of years ago, Buffy had a crush on this boy at school: Scott. He was older than her, and he rejected all her advances. I knew about this, and one day when Buffy came home in a bad mood she decided to take it out on me: she read my diary."

"Go on," Victoria urged as Dawn halted for a moment.

"That was of course something she wasn't allowed to do, and she knew I would take revenge for it. Of course, she hadn't expected this particular reaction."

"What did you do?" Victoria asked. She had always wondered what it would be like to have a sister, and it was talks like these that gave her insight into how that might have been.

"Nothing. For an entire week I did nothing, knowing Buffy knew that I knew she'd looked in my diary. Buffy was going mental wondering when I would do something. But in the end her patience was rewarded, except she didn't find out immediately."

Wetting her lips, and with her eyes shining with a mischievous light Victoria had seen in the children of her friends, Dawn continued her tale. "It hadn't been hard to figure out where Scott had his lessons, and while expensive it was pretty easy to arrange the flower delivery as well."

"You made them deliver flowers to the boy your sister had a crush on? During class?"

"During a test actually. Oh, and in Buffy's name of course. You should have seen her face, when she came home. It was definitely worth being grounded for a month."

"If you say so," Victoria said. The scariest part about the tale was probably that she could see the obvious delight Dawn had at the memory. Maybe she should be happy she never had a little sister after all. It sounded like a pain.

Dawn then brought herself under control in such a way that Victoria could practically see the emotions flow out of her face. "Was that sufficient? Or do you want to know even more stories about what I did years ago?"

"No, that'll do." It confirmed one suspicion she had, and she'd have to deal with that at a later time. "Now, I take it you want a new identity."

"Several."

"Several new identities. How much scrutiny should they be able to withstand?" It felt weird to discuss this with such a young child, but Dawn was obviously far from normal.

"I need two that are legal in every way, and several others with varying levels of competence. I've prepared a list," Dawn said while taking said list from a pocket and handing it over.

It was quite a list of names. The two that were supposed to stand up to anything were among the most noticeable, but it was another name that drew Victoria's attention enough to comment on it. "Chloe? Are you sure you want to continue with the Noir thing? It makes you predictable, and that often leads to problems."

"It's the only recognizable name on the list. I'll take the risk."

Well, it was her life. "The important two, they're a mother-daughter pair. I think you're doing a good job by keeping the names almost the same, as you'll probably use that identity simultaneously with your current one, but how are you going to swing the mother?"

"I assume you're able to age the face on a picture?"

"Of course."

"Then you only need to know I'll be able to handle it. No offence, but there are some things you don't need to know."

Nodding her head in response, Victoria decided to let that one slide. It really wasn't important, and if Dawn believed she could handle it there was no need to say otherwise. In that case, it was time to deal with the costs. "How fast do you need these?"

"A month."

Victoria couldn't stop her eyebrows from rising at that answer. A month? Nobody ever gave her a month to complete identities. "Why so long?"

"It's not easy for me to come to LA without an excuse. Undoubtedly I'm being watched. If you had one or two ready earlier than that though, it wouldn't be a problem. I'll come this way again the weekend before Valentine, but I don't need the IDs then."

"You don't?"

"I could accept them, but it's doubtful I'll actually use them."

"And in the meantime you're willing to accept the discount you figure that comes with giving me so much time."

"There's also the size of the order to take into account."

"True, but I don't go for quantum discount."

"There are a number of IDs without drivers license, so they won't cost you as much."

"But you want them to be really good."

"I figure you're capable of that."

"You already have the pictures?"

"Yes, except for the fake mother."

"That'll cost you extra."

"Name your price."

Victoria didn't need to think about that: before they'd actually started haggling she'd already determined in what price-range this order would end up. Naming a figure in the highest part of that range, she was impressed that Dawn kept her expression under control. This could be a fun negotiation.

"How about I pay you half of that."

"For what reason?"

"Because I'm a nice girl?" Dawn asked with a slight smile. They both knew the reasons for the discount, some of them having already been mentioned, but that wasn't how this game was played.

"Not good enough."

The negotiations took the better part of half an hour, where they both constantly referred to the identities Dawn had asked for and how much work that would be. But when they finished, both were satisfied with how it had ended up. Victoria had been forced to lower her price, but not quite as much as a more experienced negotiator might have achieved.

"Half now, half at delivery?" Dawn asked.

"No, I don't work that way. Half now, the rest before I start to work on it."

This was the moment where a lot of the less intelligent people starting complaining they were supposed to trust her without any proof. It always amazed her those people didn't understand that they didn't have a choice in the matter. After all, she also recorded every conversation, and it wasn't as if she made a big secret out of it.

Dawn simply accepted the demands as a fact. "As you wish. I'll bring the money in a couple of hours."

"Very well. If you'll hand me the pictures you want used, I think we can call this meeting over, and I'll make sure you end up with identities that are even better than your current one."

"Could I have the list of stores as well?"

Good point. She'd almost forgotten about it, but considering that information was just as easy to find as anything else, it didn't take Victoria long to collect it. After she found the list, it was simply a matter of printing it and handing it over to Dawn. "Here you are."

"Thank you," Dawn said.

The two of them then walked back to the living room where Dave had settled on watching cartoons. "Hey! You done?"

"Yes," was Dawn's answer.

Victoria used more words to express the same sentiment. "We are. It was an interesting experience. But Dave?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if the next time you brought someone around you wouldn't do so on a Sunday. Particularly not the Sunday after you were released from jail." Before he could object, she raised her hand to silence him. "I know you weren't followed, but I like to have Sunday for myself."

"I'll try Victoria, but..."

"But you weren't given a choice in the matter. That's understandable. Now, would either of you like something else to drink?"

"No thank you," Dawn spoke before Dave could accept. "There's more that I need to do today. Dave promised to take me to see someone and I've got another list of people to contact."

"All right," Victoria said. "In that case, I'll see you again tonight?"

"In the afternoon," Dawn corrected.

"In the afternoon."

Escorting her guests out of the door, Victoria watched them until they were several houses away, at which point Dawn said something to Dave he obviously wished she hadn't. Victoria wondered what that was about, but not for long. There was another mystery she wanted to solve, one even more interesting than the novel.

The mystery named Dawn Summers was even bigger than she had originally believed. The girl hadn't picked up on any of the hints she'd dropped, and had given an amazingly vivid account of something she'd done with her sister several years ago.

A time when Dawn Summers hadn't even existed yet.

Oh, whoever had created Dawn's identity had been good, but Victoria knew she was one of the best in the business and the creator of Dawn's identity hadn't been in her league. Even though they used powerful magic. Just thinking about how those people had broken through the magical shield protecting her precious data made her angry. How dare they? Messing around with her data of all things! Nobody was even supposed to know she had records like that, but somebody did and had then cut through her defenses.

If it hadn't been for the md5sum checks she did to detect data corruption it was doubtful she'd even known something was wrong. The check was a simple comparison of the files containing her data with a code placed on another server. All she had to do was run a script before and after changing anything and she'd know if anything was changed since the last time she made any changes. It was very low-level but it was enough for detecting data corruption.

And apparently for detecting somebody who broke into her computer using magic.

More detailed analysis had shown that it had been the batch of records containing the Slayer that had been changed and Victoria had investigated the matter until she found out exactly what had been done. It took a while, but the integrity of her data ensured she remained alive and was therefore of the highest importance to her.

When she discovered exactly what had happened, Victoria had no idea what to make of it: the Slayer now had a sister that hadn't existed upon her last update. Checking with other databases she discovered that with the exception of her hashes, and perhaps those of other people, everything in the world seemed to have changed along with that data. Until you really started digging into the girl's past at least, but luckily the people responsible for all of that hadn't known about, or bothered with, such a simple check.

It was six months now since she'd discovered the discrepancy, and until today she'd had no idea what to do about it. When she then finally realized who her visitor was, Victoria had hoped she would've been able to get more information out of Dawn herself, but the girl hadn't even been aware her current identity wasn't real.

Well, she did on a subconscious level, which was probably why she was so focused on Kirika, but that didn't help Victoria much. What she had learned from Dawn was enough of a starting point though. From this point on she should be able to find out more herself, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Now, who could have put a young girl capable of killing people in a position to protect the Slayer?


	5. The Target

**The Target**

"No."

"Why not?" Carlos tried again. "It's not as if there's any danger in it."

The bloody agent remained obstinate however and wouldn't allow it. "There is always a chance you might be recognized."

Carlos didn't believe that for a moment, and decided to make that as clear as he could. "How? I'm on the other fucking side of the country!"

"There is a possibility your location has been compromised."

"There is a possibility your location has been compromised," Carlos parroted back. "Do you really think I believe that good for nothing excuse? I would be more than safe in the company of your colleagues. It's not like I'm asking you to take me to a bar either, all I want to do is walk in a park."

"I said no," the agent said and turned around.

"Bloody prick," Carlos muttered at the agent's back. This one probably wouldn't last long either. He was probably breaking a record in how fast he went through his protectors, but didn't feel like it was his fault. He never made any unreasonable requests, and they should be grateful anyway for what he was doing. "I'm risking my life for you people! You should treat me like the hero I am."

That stopped the agent - maybe he should learn the guy's name - and made him turn around. "We both know why you're so willing to offer evidence against your bosses, and it has nothing to do with heroism. If it were up to me, you wouldn't have been here: instead you would be wetting your pants because Bubba just told you to pick up the soap."

"Oh, oh, oh. Is that kind of behavior really necessary? No matter how or why I'm doing this, I'm still giving you the evidence you need. Hell, I'm even testifying in court three weeks from now."

"In this case I'm not sure if the cure isn't worse than the disease."

Carlos couldn't care any less. "Good thing the decision isn't yours then, isn't it?"

The agent glowered at him. "I don't like you, and I'm not afraid to say so. In fact, I think you're the worst kind of human scum that exists in this world."

"You're not used to much, are you?" Carlos continued his baiting.

It took the agent all his willpower to stop himself from striking out, and Carlos knew for certain it wouldn't take much more now. Like all the other agents he'd managed to provoke, this one wouldn't stay here long either. "Do you know how close I am to actually pulling out my gun and blowing your brains out?"

"You wouldn't dare," Carlos sneered. "This pathetic job of yours is all you have, and you need it to survive."

"Unless I'd collect all the bounties on your head. That would tide me over for a while."

"See? I'm worth so much the Cosa Nostra is willing to pay a lot of money to kill me."

"It isn't just the Mafia," the soon-to-be-gone-agent sneered, "the parents have offered quite a bit for your head as well."

"Oh." This time Carlos didn't have a witty, or even smart, comeback. That wasn't really fair now, was it? What was the world coming to if outstanding citizens were willing to offer money to have someone killed?

By the time he figured out a reply, the agent had already left the room so that Carlos was forced to shout his reply at the security cameras. "Yeah well, if something happens to me, at least we'll know who was to blame for it!"

That would teach them! Damn, he really hated that holier than thou attitude these agents suffered from. It wasn't as if he deserved it either. After all, as he'd told the man, he was testifying at a court-case against Don Leone. A testimony that would have disastrous consequences for the Mafia's east-coast operations. He was breaking the Omerta for it!

Everybody knows breaking the code of silence means certain death, but he'd done so anyway. Admittedly, that was because he didn't have anything to lose anyway, but if he'd been any of his colleagues the agents wouldn't have had anything. Those fools would have kept quiet, no matter the consequences to themselves.

"I'm not that stupid," Carlos muttered. When they'd caught him with his pants down, literally, he had been more than willing to sacrifice his precious oath if it meant he would be free to go. And now everybody was looking down on him for doing so. Life wasn't fair.

"Of course you're not," Samson said as he entered the room, and immediately pulled the audio-feed from the cameras. "Don't listen to that asshole Cutter. He's just pissed because he drew this duty instead of something that'll make the brass stick another feather up his ass."

"Samson my man," Carlos said while moving to embrace the agent. "Good to see you man. It's been hell without you here, where've you been?"

"I've been having some fun," Samson said with a glint in his eyes.

Carlos couldn't help but chuckle as he understood what Samson was saying. "He he, you finally got around to it then? And was it everything you expected?"

"Everything and more. Your friend was very helpful, and I have to admit I never imagined it would feel that good."

"They never do, the first time."

"First time? I still couldn't believe it after the third one."

"Three? In one week? Do you have any idea how jealous you're making me?"

"Of course I do, every time I started I thought about you sitting in your golden cage, and it only made it better."

While he was feeling slightly jealous, Carlos had another emotion that was far more important to him. A feeling of accomplishment. He'd actually managed to subvert one of these agents to his side. Admittedly, Samson had already been close to the edge, needing only a couple of pushes to actually go through with it, but it still meant he had an ally where he hadn't expected one. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself man."

"So am I," Samson said while joining in the laughter himself. "Anyway, to prove my usefulness to Cutter I've got to get you tell me something useful today. So, let's get that over with before we start talking about my fun."

"Oh, all right. Let's see, what kind of thing do you want to hear about today?"

"Let's do something you haven't talked about, but isn't really important either. That'll be good for both of us," Samson suggested. "How about how you joined the Mafia in the first place?"

"Sure," Carlos shrugged. That wasn't a problem. "Now, let's see, how to start?"

"At the beginning?"

"Of course at the beginning, but how? Okay, I've got it," Carlos said while making himself a bit more comfortable on the couch, while Samson was sitting ready with paper and pen. Poor Samson, having to write everything down instead of simply being able to tape it. Well, no matter how nice a guy the agent might be, Carlos had no intention of giving up his demands that none of these conversations were to be recorded.

"I was born in a small apartment in Brooklyn where I quickly learned that the best way to get some status for a poor, and weak, kid like me was by using my mind. I started my climb to the top when I was eight, and didn't stop until I controlled the neighborhoods surrounding my own as well. I was thirteen when that happened."

"Impressive," Samson interjected. "How did you manage that? You don't look like a fighter now, and from what you said you weren't one back then either."

"It wasn't all that hard," Carlos said with false modesty. "I wasn't strong, but I was capable of influencing those that were. It started simple, some of the bigger kids were capable of breaking into a car and take the radio and other stuff. I knew where they could fence it, and in return I got a share of the profit from the fence.

"Then I went on to learn better ways to open the cars, that didn't pose such a big risk of discovery as beating in a window did. I taught this to the bigger kids, and in return I got a portion of their profits as well."

"Ensuring you got paid by both sides. Nice, but that still doesn't explain how you came to control several neighborhoods."

"Relax, I'm coming to that. Anyway, that was only the beginning. Once I had some money I started lending it, and that way my capital started growing."

"Lending money? Who would borrow money from a kid? And how could you possibly ensure they repaid you? For that matter, people don't usually come for a couple of quarters and I doubt you made that much."

"For other kids I had enough money, and admittedly at first it didn't really work out, but after a while I became better known and more and more people came to me. As for repayment, well while I don't like to use violence myself, there are always people willing to do anything for money."

"You had them beaten up," Samson said in understanding.

"That sounds so cruel," Carlos said, "I prefer to say they were taught the error of their ways."

"Right. Anyway, go on."

"After the money lending came a whole series of other ways I was able to earn money, and expanding my influence among the other kids. Within several years there was no kid in Brooklyn who hadn't at least heard of me.

"When I had enough money and power I simply made my next move: I hired some of the gangs as enforcers. They ensured everything went the way I wanted it to, and I allowed them to have their fun."

"Fun?" Samson asked sharply. "What kind of fun are we talking about here?"

"What do you think? You're not getting soft on me after what you've just done this past week, are you?"

Strangely enough it seemed like Samson had trouble with the thought of having some gangs going around destroying buildings, and raping girls. That whole federal agent indoctrination stuff still hadn't come out of him completely.

"No," Samson said softly. "I'm not going soft, I can handle it. It just reminded me of something. Anyway, go on."

"Right, now with my first two gangs - I think they were Pete's Bloody Men, and the Silver Blades - I started expanding. One street at a time I increased my influence, swallowing the gangs I encountered on the way. That way I grew stronger and stronger. Of course, I also understood I wasn't the one who should appear to be leading what was basically a war, so I installed a new leader. Not the brightest bulb in the shed, but he looked strong, got all the attention I didn't want, and was more than willing to follow my commands.

"Now, as I said by the time I was thirteen I controlled a number of neighborhoods, although initially only the part of it that was under eighteen. That's when I should have stopped, but I was greedy."

"You tried to take too much?"

"Yes, I should have realized the adult underworld had already been taken, but I was high on success and figured I could do anything. The Mafia showed me otherwise.

"Two weeks after we'd made our first move, taking over an illegal gambling place, we started losing people. Fast. Of course, being the genius that I am I quickly figured out something was wrong."

"Really? Damn, you must really be smart," Samson interrupted.

"Nobody loves a smart-ass Samson."

Samson didn't seem to care. "Whatever, is this going to take much longer?"

Carlos rolled his eyes at the impatient man. "All good things come to those who wait."

"That's okay, I prefer the bad girls anyway."

"Smart-ass. Now, as I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted: My people were getting killed all over the area, and I had no idea who was doing it. Until finally I found out the gambling thing was owned by the Mafia. Which even I knew to be a group you don't want to call your enemy."

"Considering they were killing your buddies, that makes quite a lot of sense."

"Exactly. Now, knowing we didn't stand a chance, I decided to make the most use of the situation I could. I ordered Pete - the fool everybody believed ruled the area - to take over even more of the Mafia's territory."

"Didn't you understand that would only anger them more? One of you should have figured that out."

"Oh, I knew about that," Carlos said with a smile gracing his face. "It was all part of my plan. Because while Pete was making himself an even bigger pest, but always from places where he was quite safe from the Mafia, I approached them."

"You went to make a deal," Samson said in realization.

"Yes, the deal itself was pretty simple, but had a lot of potential. All I had to do was to betray everything I'd built up, although they didn't know I was behind it all, and I would be allowed to join them. So, on a nice sunny afternoon I took Pete and all the others to a park where the mafia was already waiting. They wanted to interrogate everybody, and they did.

"With the exception of Pete, who didn't survive the ambush. The mafia wasn't too happy about that, but they couldn't find out which of their men had accidentally shot him."

"Let me guess, they couldn't find it out because it wasn't one of their men? I thought you didn't like hurting people."

Carlos shook his head. "What makes you think I killed him? I admit I didn't regret his passing, but if you think I would confess to something like that in FBI central, you're pretty stupid. And I know that's one thing you aren't.

"Anyway, that's how I ended up as a low-life of the Mafia. I continually kept increasing my standing within the organization, until in the end I ended up where I did."

"Here, because you got caught raping little children."

"Pot, meet kettle," Carlos shot back. After all, that was exactly what he'd convinced Samson to do. Visit one of his suppliers of fresh children and spent some quality time with them.

"I don't get caught," Samson said with conviction. "Of course, I appreciate all you've done for me in that regard, but I don't think you can help me much more than you already have. Which means our deal is finished."

Samson was a pretty intelligent guy, so it seemed impossible to Carlos that the guy was so stupid as to believe he could actually get away with breaking their deal off like this. No, this could only be a clumsy attempt to increase the stakes in their game. "All right, what is it you want?"

"More addresses. I enjoyed this past week, but if I keep going there someone'll notice. I can't have that so I need to know the other places you went to."

Was that all? Well, he could handle that. Just naming a few more places would help him like this, and as Samson didn't pose any risk to Carlos' friends that was a reasonable trade. "Alright, I'll give you two more."

"I want them all."

"Not even you can handle that much goodness at the same time." Oh, even thinking about all those delicious young bodies made Carlos horny as hell. He'd learned about his preferences for young children when he wasn't much older than some of his current lovers and had enjoyed them ever since.

Sure, it was an expensive hobby, but the way their smooth skin felt more than made up for it. Boy or girl didn't matter to him. Both were tight in all the right places.

Of course, he'd kept this part of him out of the limelight during his battle for the top in the Mafia. Even so, he was pretty sure some of his former superiors knew: there were too many times when he just missed a promotion for that to be a coincidence.

The way Carlos figured it, he was too useful a member of the Mafia for them to make him disappear, but not important enough for them to let him rise up the organization the way he should. It was almost as if they didn't pay any attention to him, or at least that's how it used to be.

Now, he had to deal with something completely different. "Samson,"

The quiet way in which he said Samson's name drew the agent's attention away from his own demands. "What is it?"

"I know the family put a price on my head, that makes sense, but is it true what your boss said?"

"About what?"

"About the families of some of the children offering a reward as well?"

"Oh that," Samson said with a shrug. "Yeah, you pretty much fucked up with that. You should've kept to the streetkids, and definitely stayed away from the rich ones. After they heard you'd struck a deal, they decided to band together and offer a reward."

"Why? Don't they understand how much harm my confessions will do to the family?"

"You messed with their kids, what makes you think they give a damn about anything else?" Samson asked with a surprised look on his face.

To Carlos it didn't make any sense: why would anyone care about what he did when he would repay for his supposed crimes by telling them what he knew? Didn't these people care about the greater good? Bunch of inconsiderate, self-absorbed, bastards that they were.

"Bleh, I don't want to talk about that anymore. In any case, I'm quite safe here from them. Not even your boss wants to have me die on his watch, so everybody in this house will do their best to protect me."

"True, now, back to the important things: the addresses?"

Carlos let out a sigh, before reciting two addresses from where he knew some friends of his to run their flesh-peddling business. "And just like before you only have to mention I sent you. They'll probably do some of the same tests to verify that I really did - just like last week - but once those are finished you can enjoy everyone you want."

"I'll see about going on my next day off. Thanks," Samson smiled as he got up. "I have to go write all this up now, or Cutter will rip me a new one."

"All right, you go and do that."

Samson was almost out of the room, when he stopped in front of the door and called back over his shoulder. "Hey Carlos?"

"Yeah?"

"That bullshit story you just told me, how much of it was actually true?"

So he had recognized it for what it was, for a moment there he'd thought he'd overestimated Samson's intelligence. "Oh, about five percent I think."

"I figured something like that. Oh well, that means I won't have to do any editing myself."

Yes, Carlos thought as Samson walked out of the room, having one of the agents on his side was probably the best thing that had happened to him since he'd arrived here. Which he had to admit didn't exactly say much, but it was at least something.

Besides, he only had a couple of weeks left to go. Then he would spend some time at court, before he'd get a whole new identity and disappear from the radar. Of course, the agents would still know where he was, but after a couple of years he should be able to get away from them as well. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a very good forger right here in LA, so he should be able to get a new identity there.

Now, what kind of identity would he pick? It was thinking about the future that got him through these boring moments when he didn't have anything better to do. Over the past month he'd already made some progress in defining a number of important parts of his new life. Most of all, he was not going to be religious.

That had been the part he'd really loathed about the family. No, the Mafia. Sometimes he still slipped in his mind, probably because he'd spent over thirty years thinking of them as the family, but he should get those thoughts out of his head.

Now, the religious thing. That was one decision he hadn't changed his mind on even once. He'd been raised without any of that religious nonsense, and when he'd had to join all the catholic fun in the Mafia, Carlos had been appalled.

Why a criminal organization would be so into religion wasn't something he understood. Sure, the whole thing for absolution probably appealed to them, but if there was a God how likely was it that a couple of hail-Mary's would stand up against the bodycount?

No, for Carlos it was far better if there was no such thing as either heaven or hell. After all, it was pretty obvious even to him where he'd end up if they existed. Which wasn't exacly fair of course because it wasn't his fault that some idiot had created outdated law making it illegal for him to exercise his hobby.

Whining didn't help though, so Carlos focused back on his plans for the future. He would go live in a small community at first as that had been decided for him. It would be hard, but he had no doubt he'd be able to handle it for a couple of years. After all, it was for his very survival, and after a while he would be able to go back to the city: the place he belonged.

A doorbell interrupted his musings, but Carlos didn't pay it any mind: it was probably only the 'changing of the guard' as he mockingly called it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd completely lost track of time while fantasizing. Now, once he got back to a city - which one was still up for grabs - he would be able to get back into his old business. Sure, he would have to be careful not to be caught by either the police or his former bosses. At least fooling the police wasn't really hard.

Carlos suddenly stopped his musings: something was wrong. He wasn't entirely sure what it was that warned him, but he knew something was wrong. Over the years he'd come to believe he was able to sense danger to himself; something that had failed only to warn him of being arrested and getting him in his current situation.

This time though, the feeling of danger was greater than ever. It was only now that he noticed the complete silence that had spread throughout the house. Nowhere could he hear agents talking among themselves: a background noise he'd become used to over time. Oh yes, something was definitely wrong.

As silent as possible, Carlos got to his feet and moved to the door leading to the hallway. Carefully peering around the corners, he didn't see anything dangerous and quickly sneaked across the hallway to the living room across of him. What was going on? Had some assassin finally found him? And why hadn't his protectors been able to stop this attack? Or at least warned him of what was going on?

Okay, his first order of business was obviously to get himself a weapon. A quick glance around the room told him there wasn't much of use here. About the only thing that appeared useful was a poker he hoped wasn't as fake as the fireplace it was standing next to. What genius had decided that a poker was needed there?

No matter. He was armed now, and if some assassin thought that they could easily kill him... well, he would learn the error of making assumptions like that. Carlos gave the poker a couple of good swings in order to get a feel for the weapon, and then decided on a new course of action. A gun. That was what he really needed. The poker was nice enough if the assassin decided to come at him with a knife, but he doubted any competent killer would need to get close.

Upstairs. He knew there were weapons hidden there. He'd never been able to get to them, but Samson had told him that in case of emergencies like this he had a gun in his room. Checking the hallway, Carlos sneaked from room to room until he came across a pair of agents lying on the floor.

Kneeling next to them, Carlos quickly checked the two for weapons. No such luck: they had already been stripped of anything useful. It was only when he checked the pulse of one of the men that he understood what had seemed odd about this: there wasn't any blood. And considering that the two men were still alive he understood the reason for it.

Drugged.

Whoever was here in the house with him had decided not to kill the agents, but instead only to keep them sedated. For some reason Carlos doubted he would be that lucky. No, whoever had done this believed himself good enough that it wasn't necessary to actually kill the agents, and seeing the two before him Carlos didn't doubt that confidence was justified.

Which pretty much sucked.

A lot.

It also meant he didn't have anymore time to waste, so Carlos quickly continued on his way. Once he'd reached the stairs he quietly ran to the top before quickly jumping into the first room he reached.

Breathing heavily, he waited there while expecting to hear the inevitable sound of footsteps indicating the man trying to kill him. Something he had no intention of letting the assassin be successful in. When after nearly a minute he still hadn't heard anything, he once again dared to move.

There was a gun in Samson's room.

All he had to do was get it and be quicker on the draw than the assassin.

All he had to do.

Carlos almost sniffled at the thought. Who was he trying to kid? He wasn't a fighter. All his life he'd made sure he was protected by those both bigger and stronger than him, but now he had to do it himself. If he'd believed in God, Carlos would have cursed the being for this cruelty.

Was he giving up? Was that why he was crying here?

No.

There was no way he would give up. He'd lived through worse situations than this. His life had been in danger before today, and he had no intention of surrendering that most precious thing to a lowlife assassin.

Now, if he wasn't mistaken, Samson's room was three doors to the right. Gearing himself, Carlos took one last deep breath and bolted out of the room. With the poker raised in his right hand he probably looked like a wildman, but that would only serve to distract the assassin. An assassin who didn't show up in the time he needed to reach Samson's room.

The door was half-open and he could easily see Samson slumped in the chair before his laptop. Obviously his friend hadn't been anymore aware of the assassin's arrival than Carlos himself had been. Still, this wasn't an opportunity he could miss, and after quickly grabbing the gun hidden under the bed - a place the assassin obviously hadn't looked - he turned some of his attention to the information on the screen.

No.

No, no, no.

Switching to another application he saw a still-shot of the conversation he'd just had with Samson. But not a picture taken from a direction where he knew the cameras to be. Clicking on the shot made the movie play, but as soon as he heard the sound he quickly paused the play-back again.

Samson had lied to him. The way this information was recorded only proved the words already mentioned in the report Samson had been writing. A report where he requested to be personally present for a raid on the two places Carlos had mentioned to him.

A request that was based on his excellent performance with three similar raids the week before. It was still difficult to wrap his head around this betrayal, but Carlos understood that Samson had played him for a fool. All his talk about having fun had been a cover to ensure he would get even more information.

No.

He wouldn't stand for this kind of betrayal.

Heedless of his own safety, Carlos aimed the gun at Samson's head and without flinching pulled the trigger. But instead of the loud bang that would have drawn the assassin's attention, and the resulting splattering of Samson's brain throughout the room, all he got was a soft click.

The gun was empty. Even as he threw the weapon at the opposite wall, he couldn't really understand why he felt so disappointed: he should have expected something like that, shouldn't he?

For a moment he hesitated between going to look for the assassin, and beating Samson to a pulp with the poker. He wanted to kill Samson, but the risk was too great. Carlos knew very well that if he started beating Samson in his current state, he wouldn't be able to pay any attention to his surroundings until after the assassin had found him.

Assassin first, vengeance later, and afterwards he would get out of here and find some beatiful child in an attempt to forget the terror he'd felt today.

Once again he checked the hallway, before going on to what he knew to be the room from which all the security cameras were controlled. Unfortunately, here too, the assassin had beaten him to the punch.

None of the equipment was functioning, and by the way he couldn't see any tapes or other storage materials he figured that the assassin had taken anything that might point to him. Great, just great.

A flicker of motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to look. A mirror was what he could see. A mirror reflecting a rather ironic sight, even if he thought so himself. So, Justice really was a bi-


	6. The Friend

**The Friend**

"... was murdered today at his safehouse in Los Angeles. Authorities are still investigating how this could have happened, but according to a spokeswoman of the FBI everything points to a professional hit. As Mendoza was scheduled to testify against various suspected members of the New York Mafia, this is where the focus of the investigation will lie," the reporter said.

"I guess the FBI is pretty pissed someone leaked that," Buffy said in a false-sounding cheery tone.

Deciding to help her friend forget about all the bad things, Willow took up the conversation. "Yes, now the bad guys know they succeeded."

"The bad guy is dead," Oz spoke up from behind the wheel of the car.

"Huh?" Buffy asked, "I thought he was going to testify against the Mafia. Or did you hear something about the killer?"

"Child rapist," Oz said in his usual succinct way, and while it took Willow a couple of seconds to understand what he meant, once she did she was shocked.

"You mean this Mendoza guy raped children?"

Oz only nodded in reply.

"Oh yuck," Buffy joined in. "Why would he testify against the Mafia then? They wouldn't actually let him go because of that confession, would they?"

Once again, a nod was all Oz needed to imply that they would indeed do that.

Willow couldn't really handle something like this, and she wished she hadn't asked for the radio to be turned on. She'd only done so in the hope it would distract Buffy from her perpetual funk, but she hadn't expected they would hear something like this.

"How do you know about this anyway? I didn't hear them say anything about it on the news," Willow asked her new boyfriend.

"Heard it. The parents offered a reward."

"To have him killed? They offered a reward for his head?"

"Something else," Oz replied.

"Something else?" Willow wondered, before she understood what Oz was talking about and felt her cheeks burn. "That's... that's..."

"Gross," Buffy finished for her. "How could anyone offer a reward for something like that?"

"Dawn," Oz said simply.

"Where? She isn't walking is she?" Buffy asked as she looked out of the window into the night.

"No, what if it was Dawn?"

Buffy blinked, and Willow could almost hear the gears turning, the adrenaline pumping furiously, and the creak of muscles as they were flexed. "If it was Dawn, he wouldn't have gotten of that easily."

Willow didn't doubt Buffy's statement for a moment. She knew her friend well enough that while Buffy might gripe about Dawn nearly constantly, the two sisters loved each other deeply. If anything were to happen to Dawn, Buffy would be the first to kill whoever had been behind it.

Emotions were both Buffy's biggest strength and her greatest weakness. It was a good thing of course for anyone to care so deeply about their friends and family as Buffy did, but it also meant she wasn't quite as able to deal with the current situation. Not that Willow blamed Buffy.

No, far from it. If she even considered the possibility of having the duty to kill Oz, no matter how he had changed, Willow was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to do it either.

And because of that, it was her duty as Buffy's best friend to support her as well as she could. Buffy was too important for the future of Sunnydale - and the rest of the world - to let her burn out; something that was bound to happen if she was constantly reminded of the evil she'd accidentally let loose.

Stupid gypsies. Why couldn't they have told Buffy the curse could be broken? Miss Calendar might be forgiven for it, but the others of her clan? No. Willow could all too clearly remember the times during the past week that she'd held Buffy while her friend was crying her heart out. It wasn't fair!

Even with all she did to help Buffy, Willow knew her friend still kept much of her feelings hidden inside of her. That wasn't something she wanted to think about though, how the strongest person she knew would cry herself to sleep without anyone near who could comfort her. The only one who had access to Buffy at those times, and knew at least something about the situation, was Dawn.

And while Dawn had matured a lot since last Halloween, she was still simply too young to truly understand what was going on. Which meant Buffy would be crying herself to sleep every night until they found a good solution to the problem with Angelus.

Why couldn't life ever be simple? Turning her attention back to Buffy, Willow saw that while she had a distracted look on her face Buffy was still crushing her hands the same way she had done before.

Was that a tear?

Rolling ever so carefully over Buffy's cheek was a single tear. Buffy never cried when any of the guys were around, so why had she suddenly changed that? Scooting a little closer to Buffy, Willow threw a look at Oz that meant he should keep his focus on the road and ignore everything that was happening on the backseat.

"What's wrong," Willow quietly began.

"Nothing's wrong Wills, nothing."

"Buffy, you're crying. Did we say something?"

"Will, I don't want to talk about it."

No, Willow recognized these were just empty words. Buffy wanted to talk, but didn't want to look like she was bothering Willow with all her problems. Very understandable, but also annoying in a situation like this. They were almost at the busstop, and after they'd picked up Dawn there wouldn't be much time left to talk.

"Hey, it's me remember? Your best friend. You can tell me what's wrong."

"The thing about Dawn, it just reminded me of something."

Reminded her of something? The mention of someone raping Dawn reminded her of something? For a moment Willow couldn't understand it: it was simply too weird. Until she made the connection. "No, he didn't," she whispered furiously. Oz only knew Buffy had boyfriend troubles, not that the boyfriend in question was a vampire who'd lost his soul. In fact, he didn't even know vampires were real.

Buffy nodded to reinforce her statement before whispering her reply. "He did, and if not him it would be Spike, Drusilla, or one of a hundred other vampires. He wants to hurt me through my little sister, and I can't let that happen."

So that was it. There was someone Buffy cared about more than she did about Angel. Willow had come to wonder if there would ever be a moment where Buffy would be forced to make a choice between ending the chance of her loved one returning and losing someone else she cared about. There was a point where Buffy would make that decision, and it was the moment Angelus would threaten Dawn's life.

The only question remaining was when Buffy would think that enough was enough. She wasn't ready for it now - not unless a direct threat to Dawn's life came about that is - because the wound was still too raw. If Willow were to guess she'd have to say that it would be a month, or perhaps even two, before Buffy would be capable of killing Angelus.

Mentally that is. Physically Willow had no doubt her friend was more than capable of doing what needed to be done. But right now Buffy was far from ready mentally. Willow had a feeling she was the only one to whom Buffy had confessed some of her nightly battles with Angelus, and how she was unable to finish those fights the way she wanted to. Which meant that it was her responsibility to make sure that Buffy was able to handle everything else.

"The bus isn't here yet," Buffy said while Willow was still staring at her in disbelief. The words shocked her out of her stupor and made Willow pay attention to their surroundings again. They'd arrived at the bus stop, but respecting their wishes Oz hadn't disturbed them for it. It constantly amazed her how nice he was, so kind, and sweet, and loving. Her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Once upon a time she hadn't thought anyone but Xander would ever get to wear that title, but as he was dating - if you could call it that - Cordelia these days that was no longer possible. Besides, once she'd gotten to know Xander she'd realized her feelings for her childhood friend were a crush. And now she had a real boyfriend; the thought of which was still capable of making her feel giddy.

Now all she had to do was to tell her parents she was dating a musician. Willow suspected her parents already knew she was in love, they'd dropped a couple of hints in that direction, but she doubted they would be very understanding about her choice. On the other hand, it could have been worse: at least Oz wasn't a girl.

Although he did paint his nails. The thought popped up without warning, and Willow had to do her best to suppress a smile. In her current funk, Buffy wouldn't appreciate hearing how other people were having a happy relationship. Not that she believed Buffy would begrudge them happiness, oh no her friend would never do that, but rubbing their joy into Buffy's face wasn't the kind of thing a good friend would do.

And she was a good friend. She liked being a good friend, just like she liked being useful even if it was only with the researching. Soon she would learn how to do magic too, and then she would be even more useful. She could come along with Buffy on patrol and destroy hordes of vampires with a single wave of her hand. That would keep Buffy safe as well, so that she could live a better and more normal life.

Oh no, she wasn't rambling again was she? At least she'd kept it inside her head this time as she couldn't really talk about her plan before she was capable of such powerful magic. Knowing Buffy, her friend would try to stop her from putting herself at such risk even if it meant Buffy would be running a bigger risk herself. No, for now she would just have to follow Jenny's lessons and do the rest of her studying when she was alone.

Maybe she could even surprise Jenny that she'd learned some things Jenny hadn't believed her to be ready for yet. They hadn't been all that hard at all, and she'd always loved it when someone told her she couldn't do something. It was a challenge that simply couldn't be ignored: she had to learn whatever it was.

To Willow learning had always come easy, and magic was only another thing to learn. While it was a bit more mystical than math or history, it was still something that could be learned. Of course, being able to do magic was a lot more special than being able to understand how an equation worked, or know who the thirteenth President was.

Rambling!

Right, turning back to Buffy Willow tried to banish her thoughts and focus back on her friend. Angelus' threat had scared Buffy far more than she had imagined to be possible. Not that she was really surprised by that, considering how much the sisters loved each other. It also explained why Buffy hadn't grumbled at all when Joyce had asked them to pick Dawn up at the station.

At any other time Buffy might have insisted Dawn should just walk home, it was fifteen minutes at most and she didn't have much with her in the way of clothes. Which was strange, because Buffy always used to complain how Dawn needed an entire suitcase even when spending the night at a friend's house.

No! Focus! She needed words to comfort her friend, not think about how said friend's little sister had learned that changing five times a day wasn't particularly useful. Now, what could she say?

"He'll never be able to do that, you know that right?"

"What?" Buffy asked with a frown. "Oh, him. I won't let him do it, that's true."

Him. So, Buffy still wasn't able to say Angelus' name when she didn't need to. But Buffy's reaction also showed that she'd waited too long with her reply. Which was stupid of course, but she couldn't have come up with anything sooner. That didn't mean she couldn't offer more comfort now that she'd gotten over her shock. "Not only that, but Dawn is a smart girl and would never let anything like that happen to her."

"He's bigger, faster, and stronger," Buffy pointed out.

"She's smarter."

"Are you sure? He is pretty smart himself."

No, he liked to think he was smart. Willow decided not to say that though as she wasn't sure how Buffy would see a comment like that. She wouldn't mean it as derogatory to either Buffy or Angel, but comments like that had a habit of always coming out wrong. "Don't underestimate Dawn. Have you seen how focused she is when she's helping us with research? She's so intense it's pretty scary. Especially when it concerns magic: it's almost as if she really hates it."

"She does," Buffy interrupted. "I read between the lines in her diary, and confronted her about it. She blames magic for everything that could go wrong: from the divorce to why she can't go out alone at night anymore."

Ignoring the mention of Buffy reading her sister's diary - she knew the reverse happened as well - Willow asked for an explanation. "Really? Why? Because of the whole Halloween thing?"

"Pretty much, and she's seen the reaction it has on us. And there's one more thing I'm still not entirely sure about..."

"What's that?"

"It doesn't matter, it's really stupid."

"I won't laugh, you know that. What is it?"

"I think that maybe Dawn bought her suit at Ethan's after all."

"What do you mean? We both saw her, and you even found her freaked out at your mom's gallery."

"How much do we really know of what happened during that night? With Dawn I mean. I don't think I actually saw her for more than a couple of minutes during the spell, and if anything had been off I probably wouldn't have noticed it."

"B-but the others? Wouldn't they have figured something out?"

"What others? Xander? He was affected as much as I was. And neither Cordelia nor An-, nor he, knew Dawn."

Willow was still far from convinced, and told Buffy so. "That doesn't prove anything. That only means the possibility was there, not that she was affected."

"There is more to it. Dawn has changed since Halloween. She tries to hide it, make the changes look less like what they are, but sometimes I barely recognize her." Buffy sighed, before looking past the still silent Oz and into the night. "Dawn was never all that focused on anything, but nowadays she wants to learn everything. She's even learning how to fight!"

"Self-defence," Willow pointed out.

"Right," Buffy snorted, "you do remember she was grounded for hurting that kid, don't you?"

"He was taking something from her." Even as Willow said it, she knew how flimsy that excuse was.

"Before Halloween she would have complained to a teacher."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't prove anything. We all changed when we found out. You stopped being all cheerleader like, Xander became more protective, Cordelia-. Okay, there are some exceptions, but I still don't think it means anything."

"I don't know," Buffy said while shaking her head. "It's not like I have any proof she got her costume there, and why wouldn't she tell us if that's the case? We were all affected, and Xander still even feels the aftereffects."

Even if she'd wanted to, Willow couldn't stop the smile that spilled on her face as she thought about Xander's constant complaining about waking up early in the morning and the other effects. It wasn't that she wanted her friend to be unhappy, but it was just so funny. "So, did Dawn suddenly start cleaning her room too?"

"Hah, trust me if that had been the case I would've taken my ice-skates and gone to the Hellmouth to try the new ice-rink there."

"Oh, she's just like you then?"

"Hey! You're supposed to be my friend!" Buffy said with a laugh, while lightly swatting Willow. It wasn't sincere laughter though, and Willow could clearly see the pain hidden behind the facade.

Nonetheless, she tried to play along. "I am! But I've heard your mom complain about your room far too often to believe you keep it clean."

"Hah, she doesn't complain about my room nearly as much as she does ab-"

"Bus," Oz interrupted their teasing.

Turning to look at the road, Willow could see Oz was right: the bus was approaching the busstop. By the time she noticed that however, Buffy was already out of the car, and Oz wasn't far behind: leaving her to bring up the rear. Of course, there were no vampires around or Buffy would have reacted to them already, but that didn't mean she wanted to be away from Buffy's protection.

The bus stopped, and shortly after people started filing out. All five of them, with Dawn naturally bringing up the rear.

Bringing up the rear and lugging a large pack she definitely hadn't left with.

"What the hell is that?" Buffy demanded, as she too noticed what Dawn was taking along. "I thought you only left with a small backpack?"

"Presents," Dawn said with a smile as if it should be obvious. "I bought some presents, but I'm not done yet so I have to go back next week."

"I'm not sure mom will like that," Buffy answered.

"I don't need to stay, it's just that some of the things I wanted had to be ordered."

Had to be ordered? What kind of presents did Dawn buy that they had to be ordered? That was so strange that for a moment Willow almost started to believe Buffy's suspicions, but noticing the innocent look in Dawn's eyes she rejected the thought as soon as it sprang into existence. Dawn had dressed like a hardened assassin: there was no way someone like that could look this innocent.

"What kind of things?" Buffy asked.

"Valentine kind of things," Dawn answered with a look that was obviously meant to silence Buffy.

"Cordelia," Buffy only said to indicate the uselessness of Dawn's crush.

"That's not important."

"She probably disagrees." Willow knew that Buffy was right, but Dawn didn't seem to agree. Dawn was still in denial where it came to Xander. At least the denial part where she denied that anyone could possibly have a better claim on him than her.

"Okay, let's explain how this works," Dawn said with a sigh. "Xander loves Cordelia, I get that. On the other hand, I also understand that won't last forever and before they break up I want to have buttered him up a bit. Now, talking about my future husband, where is he?"

Future husband. Willow could only too clearly remember how she'd thought similar things when she'd been Dawn's age. The number of times she'd written Willow Harris was too much to count. Okay, not really to count because that was just a literary way to say there were a lot of them, but still: she'd written it down very often. Of course, that had all stopped when Oz became her boyfriend.

Dawn didn't have her own Oz, and was therefore still determined to make a fool out of herself. Personally, Willow didn't see any downside to that as Dawn would learn from those moments as she had. It would be painful for her, to be ignored as only a best friend when what she wanted was so much more, but Dawn would come out stronger. Willow had no doubts about that.

"He couldn't come," Buffy answered Dawn's question, and in doing so she brought Willow's mind back on track.

"Why not?"

"He said there was something he needed to do."

"Oh." No matter how much she said she could wait, it was obvious Dawn was disappointed by this news. If she didn't have personal knowledge about how easily Xander could overlook somebody's crush Willow might have been surprised he hadn't noticed how far Dawn's feelings actually went.

Sure, he knew Dawn had a crush on him, Buffy's statement after Halloween had been pretty clear, but Willow was sure that if Xander knew how deep it really went he would have acted differently. Dawn didn't remain silent for long however, as she finally seemed to have noticed Oz. "So, who's the silent one?"

"Oz," Oz told her.

"Cool name. Are you Willow's boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Cool attitude as well. When did you two hook up?"

"About two weeks ago," Willow said in an attempt to stop the interrogation of her boyfriend. He was hers after all.

"Oh, so that's why you were constantly giggling with Buffy," Dawn understood.

Yes, although she wouldn't admit that with Oz nearby. Besides, the giggling stopped after Buffy's birthday as it would simply be unfair to gush to Buffy about Oz when Angel had just lost his soul. Well, that and how the whole Angelus situation managed to make everyone depressed.

"So, does he know?"

"About what?" Oz asked, while Willow wondered the same thing. Judging by Buffy's sudden blanched face, she knew what Dawn was talking about.

"Dawn!" Buffy tried to stop her sister, but it would never work without physically restraining her, something Buffy wouldn't do in public.

"That vampires and demons are real," Dawn said simply in reply to Oz's question.

No! How could that little bitch do that? She might scare him away! Oz simply blinked however, and turned to look at both Buffy and Willow. "That explains some things."

"Damn, you really are cool," Dawn said half in awe. "I didn't know anyone could react to finding out like that."

Oz only shrugged, although Willow could see the hurt that was evident in his eyes. With Buffy's behavior, and her own guilty look, it was obvious she couldn't deny the truth about the situation, but she wished she could say something to repair the trust between them. "Oz..." Willow started, before petering out when her boyfriend turned to the car.

"Let's go, Sunnydale is dangerous at night." Ouch, even such a simple statement hurt terribly. Oz had said that when they went to catch a movie after they'd just hooked up as well, but this time there was quite a bit of subtext in it. Why did Dawn have to tell him about the demons?

"Sure," Dawn replied as if she hadn't done anything wrong. "Oh Buffy?"

"Yeah Dawn?" was Buffy's weary reply.

"Have you told mom yet?"

-x-x -x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The End   
Post-fic comments: That's it for this story. The sequel will appear when it's ready. As usual I won't post it until it's finished.


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